Show Me How to Fly
by sosaveme
Summary: The two have grown up together—Dorian and Chaol. They're like brothers. But maybe Dorian wants something a little bit more. As Dorian tries to navigate his feelings and keep up with his reputation—can't have a frowned-upon Crown Prince—Chaol investigates the murders that keep happening and figure out how he feels. Can Dorian and Chaol end up together and survive the killings?
1. Chapter 1: A Friendship Begins

**A/N: Hey there everyone! Welcome to my third story. I took down the trailer, as you can see. If you didn't catch the trailer, all it was just a preview for this.**

 **Okay, so there are a few things that I should probably say before we begin.**

 **First, trigger warnings. I might add to this list, and I'll put warnings before chapters that might include some of these.**

 **Suicidal thoughts**

 **Abusive father**

 **Mild Depression**

 **Unacceptance**

 **Mild swearing**

 **Next, this is going to be a very long story. Just warning y'all. If you've stopped by my profile, you already know that it's going to be at least 55 chapters. Being that almost all of my chapters are over 1k words, this story will probably be between 55k and 100k words. It'll cover a span of 10 years. The last 20 chapters will take place over the same year, and the last 40-ish will probably be when Dorian is 13 or older.**

To anyone who does not want to read about Dorian and Chaol growing up together: _**If you want to skip past the first few years that Dorian and Chaol are getting to know each other and just want to go straight to the conflict, rather than read about their relationship as children, go to Chapter Twenty Five. Or come back to this when that chapter is out in the beginning of March, depending on when you're reading this, seeing as I've just inserted this note today (November 25, 2017) and 25 is not out yet. There will be a short recap in that chapter if you skip.**_

 **Finally, it's going to be a BOY X BOY pairing. Don't like? Don't read.**

 **Oh! And before I forget, many thanks to my wonderful beta, thekadykate22. She's amazing and I don't think I could manage without her. She has done an amazing job editing for both this story so far, and the last one that I published called** _ **Just One Dance**_ **.**

 **Sorry for the long A/N by the way; most won't be like this. Now, without further ado, I present chapter one of** _ **Show Me How To Fly**_ **.**

 **Chapter One: A Friendship Begins**

Dorian sighed. He hated council meetings. They were so _boring_. He didn't know why his father had suddenly decided that Dorian needed to come to these. What was the point? It wasn't like Dorian was going to be any help in any decision making—he was eight years old, for crying out loud!

Dorian glanced around the council room. There was nothing interesting about it. The walls were a plain, whitish-yellow color with no designs anywhere in sight. There was a long window on one side, opening it up to the outside world and making it a little lighter. Lanterns lined the walls, but none were lit since it was such a sunny day outside. These innocent features of the place could almost fool one into believing that it was a pleasant, if not happy place. Unfortunately, that was not the case even a little bit. The demeanor of the room was not determined so much by the color or light fixtures, but instead by what lay inside of it. Or more accurately, what those things—those _idiots_ —did.

Now, let's take a step back for a moment. Of course, you are probably wondering _what_ sits inside. _Who_ dwells there. Well, in the center of the room there was a large table taking up almost all of the space. It was lined with a countless number of seemingly innocuous seats, which were occupied by about 36 old, fat white guys with giant mustaches and greying hair bitching about various "problems," most of which had to do with the war going on. The war that these royal men were on the wrong side of. See, they wanted to take over the world. Yeah. Real original. But their motives and cause weren't entirely what was important to young Dorian Havilliard at the moment. No, all that he was thinking of was the fact that he was absolutely bored out of his mind and had nothing to do but listen to those idiots drone on and on about useless shit that he couldn't care less about.

The King of Adarlan was going on about something. What, Dorian had no idea. He wasn't really paying much attention, as could be expected of… okay, almost anyone in his position. His gaze flitted over the council members and saw a boy sitting there that he didn't remember seeing before. The boy was sitting next to the Lord of Anielle, so Dorian assumed that the boy was probably the son of the lord.

The boy's gaze met Dorian's. Dorian smiled at him and he smiled back. Dorian tried to remember the name of the kid. If he was the Lord of Anielle's son, that meant he was either Chaol or Terrin. He looked too old to be Terrin, so that meant he had to be Chaol. He was pretty sure that he remembered his father saying that Chaol was eleven.

The boy—Chaol—stuck out his tongue at Dorian. Dorian fought the urge to giggle. He mocked fixing his hair and dusting off his vest and then giving Chaol a stern look. Chaol snorted lightly. Lord Westfall gave Chaol a look, but then went back to whatever he had been saying before. Dorian cocked his head slightly and Chaol just shrugged. The King of Adarlan shot Dorian a look and muttered, "I brought you here to learn politics, not to make friends. You can do that elsewhere. Now get your act together and start paying attention."

"Sorry father," Dorian quietly apologized. He looked towards Chaol with a remorseful look and gave a quick shake of his head that told Chaol they had to stop. Chaol nodded ever so slightly.

* * *

Dorian wandered through the garden, his entourage of guards following at a respectable distance from him. He wasn't paying much attention, and slammed into something. Or rather, some _one_.

"Oh! I'm so sorry!" Dorian yelped. He looked up and saw the same boy from this morning.

The boy—Chaol—smiled at him.

"It's quite alright. I'm pretty sure it was my fault." Chaol laughed. Then, seeming to remember his manners, he bowed slightly. "I'm Lord Chaol Westfall, by the way, Your Highness."

Dorian groaned slightly. He hated that title. It just reminded him of who he was supposed to be. Who he didn't want to be.

"I know. I sort of figured that you were one of Lord Westfall's children, and you look too old to be Terrin."

Chaol nodded slightly. "Ah. Would you mind if I accompanied you, Prince Dorian?"

Dorian furrowed his brow. "Sure."

Chaol grinned at him. He seemed to enjoy Dorian's informal way of speaking.

They walked through the garden together, partaking in a pleasant conversation that Dorian actually began to enjoy. When they had started talking, it had mostly just been him being polite, the way his father was always telling him he was supposed to, but Chaol seemed like a genuinely kind person, and Dorian liked it. He didn't really seem as fake as all the other people around their age group.

"So, some things you like to do, Your Highness?" Chaol asked as they passed a patch of daffodils. "Perhaps we have some things in common!"

"Please don't call me that," Dorian blurted. He felt like the two of them could end up being friends, but even if they did, he still hated it. "If we're going to be friends, I want you to call me Dorian."

Chaol looked shocked. "Really?"

"Yeah!"

"Are you sure? You really want me to call you Dorian? And you want to be friends?"

"Of course. You seem nice. Besides, I hate all of those formalities."

"Okay," Chaol smiled. "And between you and I, I actually would rather be called by my first name as well."

"It's actually 'you and me.' And cool. We can be on a first name basis!" Dorian said, smiling.

Chaol frowned. "Sure, that's nice. I'd like that," he said, still seeming a bit put-off by the first part, and appeared to be trying to decide whether or not to comment. In the end, he let slip out a, "But isn't it impolite to correct someone's grammar?"

Dorian shrugged. "Sorry," he sighed. "But you should know that if you can replace the list of names with—"

Chaol gave him a look. Dorian grimaced. "Fine then. Don't listen. Use incorrect grammar."

Chaol shook his head. "I get enough of this from my tutors," he muttered.

"So do I. But evidently, I pay attention." Chaol let out a breathy and somewhat indignant laugh. "Besides," Dorian smirked, "isn't it impolite to tell the Crown Prince of Adarlan that he's being impolite if you're lower ranked than he?"

Chaol rolled his eyes. "Fine." It was said in a bit of a harsh tone, but Dorian could tell that he was sort of enjoying the banter back and forth. "But I actually don't care, Dorian. Those tutors can go die in some long-forgotten hole."

He paused for a second, as though just realizing how disrespectful he was being, but Dorian made no comment about it.

The prince held up his hands in surrender, a playful smile on his lips. "Okay, just trying to help."

Chaol shot him a look. Suddenly, the clock tower began to chime its awful cry. Chaol and Dorian both flinched. Dorian shifted uncomfortably.

"You don't like it either?" Chaol asked.

"Nope," Dorian said. "I never have and I never will. It's horrible."

"I agree," Chaol said smiling.

Dorian watched Chaol silently. He felt like they could quickly become friends.

* * *

Dorian strode down the hallway alone. He was so proud of himself. He knew he shouldn't be, but he'd managed to get away from his guards for the first time. He knew that he was going to get in trouble with his father though, and he really wasn't looking forward to the lecture; however, right now though, he was heading to the library to do some reading alone for once.

He couldn't wait to read without being watched…. He'd be able to get away with so much more! He might even be able to get ahold of some of those books his guards said were "inappropriate." And in between books, he could climb up the shelves to the very tippy-top and perch there, waiting to scare the occasional passerby.

As Dorian pondered what he could do with this newfound freedom, he continued walking at a brisk pace, trying to look as best he could as though he were supposed to be where he was at that moment.

He suddenly heard footsteps coming from behind the next corner. He paused, thinking it was his guards, but then he realized that it really only sounded like one person. He peaked past the wall blocking his view. He breathed out a sigh of relief. It was just Chaol. Over the past few days, they'd become well acquainted with each other.

"Hey!" Chaol said as a way of greeting. Then he furrowed his brow. "How come you don't have your guards with you?"

"One could ask you the same question," Dorian replied.

Chaol shrugged. "I've been pestering my father to let me spend an hour or two without my guards for once. I've been on really good behavior, so he let me. I'm pretty sure he only agreed to get me to stop asking. Plus, he figures that there are enough guards throughout the castle to keep me safe for an hour or two. What about you though? You're far too valuable for His Majesty to let go without guards."

"I sort of slipped away from them," Dorian grinned. "I can't believe your father let you off the leash, though! Mine would never do that!"

"I know! I was shocked my father agreed, too!" Chaol said playfully. "How did you get away? I've never slip away from my guards."

"Oh. You know, I don't really want to say how I got free. We've just met and I don't want to get you in trouble for doing something similar and I don't want you to tell anyone how I did it."

"Fair enough. So, where were you headed before I interrupted?" Chaol asked.

"Library. Want to come?"

"Yeah, I guess. I was going to the garden, but the library sounds great too."

The two headed off in the direction of the library, chatting merrily as they went.

"You enjoying this weather?" Chaol questioned Dorian as they went.

"You mean the torrential downpour? Of course!" There wasn't even a hint of sarcasm in Dorian's voice when he said it.

"You being serious?" Chaol seemed surprised.

"Yeah! I love the rain! My father can't make me go outside with the excuse, 'It's so sunny! Go out and play!' It's what he always does. But if it's pouring rain, he's got no choice but to let me wreak havoc inside." Dorian grinned at Chaol, who shrugged.

"Valid reasoning. But _I_ like being outside. It's a way of escaping from everything."

"See, that's where I disagree," Dorian countered. "The library is where you can escape from everything!"

Chaol, being able to think of nothing more to use as an argument, dropped it in silent agreement that perhaps the library, with all its mystic wonders, was a better place to go if one wanted to leave reality behind.

The rest of the walk was spent mostly in silence, and it wasn't long before they arrived in the room of many arts, prepared to spend the rest of the afternoon reading anything and everything they wished.

And that's exactly what they did—for the most part. Dorian completed two full books detailing magical theories (they were banned—neither Dorian nor Chaol was entirely sure why they were still in there), and Chaol read half of a random adventure novel ("I don't see how you can stand to read works by Ash Nelson," Dorian would later say scathingly in reference to the novel and its author).

Most of the several hours sitting there were spent in silence, with the occasional word back and forth—"Have you ever wondered what will happen if you father loses this war?" Chaol asked at one point.

Dorian, jarred out of the fanciful land depicted in his current book, frowned at this question. "Not a lot," Dorian shrugged. "I mean, I'm not really sure. I'd prefer not to think about it."

Chaol nodded. "Do you think we'll all die?"

"Chaol!" Dorian groaned. "I was _having_ a nice time!" It was said with quite a bit of attitude.

Chaol raised an eyebrow. "Alright. Sorry."

" _Shh_!" Dorian hushed Chaol. "I'm reading."

"Well, clearly not if you're talking to me," Chaol retorted.

"Just be quiet," Dorian grumbled.

Chaol silently mimicked Dorian, making faces at the back of Dorian's book before returning to his own.

After that short mishap, reading was mostly smooth sailing. That is, until Dorian's guards finally showed up and decided to ruin everything.

It happened out of the blue. One second all was well and quaint, and the next guards were storming into the library quite loudly. The librarian, of course, protested this, but they quickly passed him with little to no trouble.

Dorian glanced up from the table that he was sitting at with Chaol. He groaned slightly.

"We could go hide," Chaol suggested. Dorian gave it a moment of thought, but before he could respond, his guards rounded the corner. In that moment, Dorian looked very much like a cornered deer.

"Your Highness, sir, with all due respect, you can't just run off like that! We're under direct orders from His Majesty to guard you at all times on our shift! We've been looking for you for the last few hours," one guard scolded.

Dorian sighed. "No, no. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have slipped away from you, I know. I'll go willingly." He held out his hands dramatically as though the guard was going to put him in shackles and take him to jail.

The guard pursed his lips. "His Majesty wishes speak with you about this whole happening. Follow us." The guard started to walk away, followed by the others on Dorian's detail.

Dorian glanced back at Chaol, who silently mouthed, "Good luck!" Dorian took a deep breath and followed his guards.

 **Release Date: September 23, 2017**

 **Trailer Release Date: July 26, 2017**

 **Trailer Removal Date: September 23, 2017**

 **A/N: I have this thing that I do where I put the chapter release date on all of my chapters. You already know this if you read my first story,** _ **Vampires Don't Exist**_ **, or my last story,** _ **Just One Dance**_ **.**

 **If you haven't read** _ **VDE**_ **I encourage you to go check it out. It follows an original character named Caroline as she tries to vanquish beasts known as the Shadows with the help of Alice Cullen. It's a Twilight fan fic, but don't worry—I've tried to make it about strong women rather than helpless fools like Bella Swan. The two meet one night when Caroline is very drunk and Alice makes sure that Caroline gets home safely. Unfortunately, the next time that they meet is not very pretty. Is Alice really trying to help Caroline? Or does she have her own agenda? What are these Shadows, and what makes Caroline so special to them? Find out in** _ **Vampires Don't Exist**_ **.**

 **Also, sorry for the crappy first chapter. I know that it felt a little disjointed and didn't flow well; hopefully future ones will be better.**


	2. Chapter 2: Consequences

**A/N: Hi. Chapter two for you. It feels a little pointless to me, but whatever. The story will probably get better next chapter or the one after that.**

 **Trigger warning: *spoiler alert* The King of Adarlan hits Dorian. It's not too bad, but I just thought I'd say so.**

 **Chapter Two: Consequences**

Dorian walked with his guards as slowly as he could manage without it being blatantly obvious what he was doing. That afternoon had been some of the most fun that he'd had in a very long time. It had been amazing hanging out with Chaol in the library without having to constantly be mindful of what he said due constantly being watched. Unfortunately, now he knew he'd pay for his actions, and he really wasn't looking forward to it.

"Can we hurry up, Your Highness? His Majesty is waiting," one of his guards spoke.

Dorian groaned. "My foot hurts," he lied. It wasn't a very good one, but it was all he could come up with on the spot.

"We can have that looked at afterwards," the guard told him. "but right now we need to get going."

"I can't go any faster," Dorian complained as the men around him began to pick up their pace.

The one that had spoken sighed. Dorian knew he should probably know all of their names; let's just say it was one of the many things he was working on. "Alright, Your Highness."

Dorian had tried to get his guards to not call him things like that, but no matter what he tried, they always refused. In the end, he'd given up and decided it wasn't worth the hassle.

When they finally began to approach the throne room, Dorian's heart rate began to accelerate. He'd never done anything that was this blatantly _bad_. Up until this point, he'd liked to think of himself as a good kid. Maybe not anymore, though.

He realized in that moment just how angry his father was going to be. He'd assumed his father would be upset, but he hadn't really thought about it that much. What ever happened though, he'd get through it. His father couldn't do anything horrendous, could he? He began to break out into a cold sweat. Yeah. He was a bit of an anxious child.

The doors swung open and Dorian marched in, head held high, determined not to show his worry. It was going to be fine.

Queen Georgina was not in the room—only the king was there.

"Dorian. I've been told that you've had an… _eventful_ day. Care to explain it to me?" The king had his lips pursed and seemed to be more than a little angry. The average person wouldn't have been able to tell, but Dorian understood what that chillingly calm voice meant.

"I'm sorry, father," Dorian whimpered. "I really am!"

"Why, might I ask, did you do something like this? Go and escape your guards, who are only there for your benefit? Do you think yourself so high and mighty that you do not need such things?"

"No, no, not at all!"

"Did you simply want to rebel? Make me angry?" The king continued his questioning.

"That's not—Okay, look. All I wanted was a few hours where I didn't constantly have someone watching me. I hate feeling like I can't be me. I really am sorry." Dorian knew that his tone was getting dangerously close to something his father wouldn't like.

"No, I'm sorry. I completely understand. And so do all of the criminals out there, of course! They're just going to take a break because you wanted one."

Dorian flinched.

"Listen to me young man. I know where this is headed. You've had a taste of rebellion, and you'll want more, but mark my words—it is not even a little bit flattering. If you disobey me again, you'll seriously question why you did so afterwards. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Lord Dictator," Dorian rolled his eyes. He immediately regretted his decision to say this.

The king stood from his throne, raised his hand and slapped Dorian across the face, and hard at that. Dorian stumbled backward, tears brimming in his eyes.

"Do not disrespect me. You will call me father, Your Majesty, or _king_ , because whether you are my child or not, I _am_ still your ruler and you will act like it. Now get out of my sight and get these thoughts of disorder and upheaval out of your head. Next time I see you, I expect you to be back to your usual, compliant self."

Dorian nodded quickly. "Yes. Okay. Your Majesty," he added belatedly. He did his best to hide his face where tears threatened to start flowing.

After he left the room, the guard who had spoken before glanced around. "I'm really not supposed to say anything like this, but I think he overreacted. Is that why you were trying to put off going in there? Sorry… I didn't know about these things. I'm new."

Dorian sniffled a little. He sighed. "Yeah, yeah. I know you're new. I was worried about his reaction, but I didn't actually think it'd be that bad. I mean, I've got anxiety and I'm a bit of a pessimist, but I honestly didn't think he'd be that upset."

"Well, that's fathers for ya," an older guard said. "They see you starting to tow your way out of line, and they think, 'Well, this is it. It's the end of the good behavior.' Just show him you're still a good kid and he'll be fine."

Dorian nodded distractedly. He wasn't sure he wanted to be good. He'd had a lot of fun being bad, but he didn't want another reaction like that. Maybe if he was a little sneakier next time…. He was jolted out of his thoughts when he arrived at his room in a lone tower far from other life.

* * *

Chaol was sitting next to his father, who was lecturing him about what he'd done. On and on the man droned.

"You must have known the prince wasn't supposed to be without his guards! Do you realize how much trouble you could be in with the king? How much trouble you may have caused me? I could lose my position here! You were completely irresponsible, and that is unacceptable!""

"I know, father. I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

"No, it most certainly won't! Especially since you won't be spending time with the prince anymore."

"What?" Chaol was shocked. It hadn't been that awful. He'd done worse.

"That's right! You could have cost me my job, so you don't get to see him or go without your guards ever again!"

"But father, I promise that I'll be good! I swear! Please, I don't care about the guards, but you've gotta let me be friends with Dorian! He's the only person I've met in this castle who's worth talking to."

"That's _Prince_ Dorian," the Lord of Anielle corrected, though he made no move to address Chaol's request.

"Please," Chaol's voice broke as he begged his father. He wasn't quite sure why he was getting so upset. It was just one person. One boy. But it was a boy that over the last week and a half, he'd really grown quite fond of.

The lord's gaze softened ever so slightly. He grimaced. "Oh, alright," he sighed. "I can't believe I'm actually _doing_ this. You can stay friends with him," the Lord of Anielle said defeatedly. "But consider yourself warned!" He quickly added. "And no more wandering around without your guards!"

Chaol nodded enthusiastically. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" He cried, before skipping off back to the library.

He knew Dorian would be long gone, but he did sort of want to do a little reading. He'd never been big on it, but Dorian seemed to be, so it couldn't hurt to try, could it?

When Chaol sat down, he noticed a young girl sitting near him. He'd never seen her before. She didn't look to be anyone special, but he knew that looks could be deceiving. He decided to get up and talk to her, as he was feeling a little lonely at the moment. He wanted to start making more real friends like Dorian. Now that he had one, he wanted more.

"Hi! I'm Chaol," he said, introducing himself.

She looked up, as though slightly confused as to why he was speaking to her. "Okay," she said in a distant voice. She had lovely brown eyes and dirty blonde hair.

He frowned at her. "And who might you be?" he asked, sitting down beside her.

"Does it matter?" she asked. "I'm reading, which is what I want to be doing, rather than talking to you."

He was surprised by her straightforwardness.

"Yeah…. Okay. But can I know your name?"

She shrugged. "Okay," she responded, turning back to her book and continuing to ignore him.

He went back to his original seat feeling a little bit discouraged and honestly sort of hurt. Maybe he really wasn't meant to have friends. Or maybe she was just mean.

He grabbed a book resting near his table and started to read it angrily without even checking to see what it was. He couldn't wait to see Dorian again. Someone who would actually _care_.

 **Chapter Release Date: September 30, 2017**

 **A/N: Sorry if this seemed a little dramatic. I tried to write it the way an eleven-year-old or eight-year-old might think about these things. Also, the girl will come to be important in chapter… I don't know. I'm too lazy to check my story plan. I'm pretty sure it's around chapter twenty. Anyway… goodnight. Or good morning. Or good afternoon. Or whatever. Bye.**


	3. Chapter 3: A Friend in Need

**A/N: This one's going to be a short one. Hope you guys don't mind. It's sort of just meant to be kind of sweat and show how much Chaol cares about Dorian already.**

 **Also, I just thought I'd say this: I have not read** _ **Tower of Dawn**_ **yet. I apologize in advance for anything that does not line up with any back story of Chaol's that we learn about in that book, but no worries—I'm probably going to at least** _ **start**_ **reading it within the next month or two.**

 **And, before we get into the story,** _ **Chapter Four: Council Meetings and Fun Times**_ **will be out a day later than expected. I hope you guys don't mind. =(**

 **Chapter Three: A Friend in Need**

Chaol was sitting in the garden when Dorian finally found him. He'd been looking all over for his new friend.

Dorian sat down next to him. "Hey," was all he could think of to announce himself.

Chaol looked up seeming mildly surprised. "Hi. How did things go with your dad last night?"

They hadn't gotten a chance to speak since the prior afternoon, so neither knew what had happened to the other yet.

Dorian grimaced. "Not well."

He turned his face to the side, doing his best not to show the side that now sported a large bruise across it. Chaol seemed to not notice.

"That bad, huh?" Chaol sighed. "My dad tried to tell me I couldn't hang out with you anymore." Concern crossed Dorian's face. "Don't worry though!" Chaol quickly added. "I convinced him that I'd be better." He grinned slowly. "So basically we can be bad—now we just can't be caught."

Dorian snorted. "That's right. If I get in trouble with my dad again…" he trailed off. He didn't want to think about what would happen then.

Dorian looked over at Chaol, who paused. "Dorian, what's that on your face?"

"Oh… It's nothing. Really. I… er… slipped." Dorian quickly looked away from his friends.

"Dorian, you and I both know you're a shit liar. Tell me what really happened."

"I don't want to," Dorian mumbled.

Chaol wrapped his arms around Dorian. "It was him, wasn't it?" he whispered.

Dorian nodded slightly.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Chaol asked as he pulled away. "Someone needs to do something!"

"Chaol, it's really fine. Loads of parents spank their children," he pointed out impassively.

"That's not spanking! Gods above, does your mother know?" Dorian shook his head. Chaol sighed. "Get up. We're going to go tell her right now. You shouldn't be going through this. It's not right."

"No! This is why I didn't tell you, Chaol! If he knows I told her, he'll think I'm weak! Besides, this is the only time it's ever happened."

"Dorian, you're eight," Chaol said, rubbing a hand over his face. "You wouldn't be weak if you told her. In fact, you'd be very, very brave. And besides, it doesn't matter if this is only the first time it's happened. If it's happened once, it'll happen again."

"How about this—I'll tell her if it happens again. It's never happened before, so maybe this was the only time!"

Dorian could hear the plea in his voice, and apparently, Chaol could too. The older boy looked like he was kicking himself for what he was about to say.

"Fine. But I want you to swear that you will! I don't want to see you suffer."

Dorian nodded. "Okay."

"I want to hear you say it," Chaol said pointedly.

"Alright! I swear I'll tell her if it happens again."

"Thank you," Chaol said, giving him a sidelong look.

Dorian sighed. He didn't want to think his father would do it again. He wouldn't, would he? Was he really like that? He hoped to the Gods that the king wasn't, but he knew in his heart that that man really might be.

He curled up next to Chaol, watching the sun slowly sink lower along the horizon. "I do appreciate your concern, Chaol."

Chaol nodded distantly. "I'm glad." He wrapped one arm around Dorian's shoulders. "I'll protect you from whatever happens. You're so much better than the other people in that castle, and I don't want to see that change. I want you to stay good forever."

Dorian smiled slightly to himself. "Thanks. For what it's worth, you're pretty kind yourself."

"Let's be friends forever," Chaol said to Dorian. "I know we've just met, but… I don't know. I feel like we're meant to be friends. Don't you?"

"Yeah. Friends forever."

 **Chapter Release Date: October 7, 2017**


	4. Chapter 4: Council Meetings & Fun Times

**A/N: So, I know I said this one might be out late, but it's not! Yay! I'm living on four hours of sleep here, so I'm not going to make a super long author's note when I could be vegetating in my room watching YouTube. =)**

 **Chapter Four: Council Meetings and Fun Times**

"But _Dad_ ," Dorian groaned. "I don't want to go!"

"You'll go to this meeting, Dorian Havilliard, or so help me—"

"Let's not be rash, dear," Queen Georgina soothed. "He's just a boy."

Dorian prayed that meant he wouldn't have to attend. Alas, he was not that fortunate.

"Fine. He still however, he still must go." Dorian knew this would be his father's final word. He repressed a sigh.

"Please, father! I'm eight! I'm not going to be making a contribution!"

Dorian shifted back and forth as his father thought. He was uncomfortable in the stifling garments that had been forced onto him that morning. He was sweating his ass off and just wanted to go back to sleep. It was the crack of dawn and he hadn't gone to sleep at a decent hour the previous night. The only thought that brought him any comfort was the idea that maybe Chaol would be at the meeting.

"I want you to go because you need to start learning politics, Dorian." The king knelt down in front of Dorian, fixing Dorian's jacket collar. One might almost be fooled into thinking the man was an adequate father that truly cared for his son. Whoever thought that would be wrong. "The point is _that_ you're eight. If you start learning now, you'll be ready when it finally comes time for you to take the throne. I want you to be prepared and able to be a good ruler to fill my shoes. I want you to be able to make a difference and not crack under pressure. You'll go to these meetings, like I said, and you won't complain. Understood?" His tone was soft and gentle, but what was inside of those words was not. Hidden beneath the kind demeanor was a devil lurking, waiting to strike, and Dorian—even as young as he was—understood that.

"Yes, sir."

"Good."

* * *

Dorian walked down the hall, feeling very much like a dog on a leash being dragged around to places he didn't want to go. He knew already that the meeting was going to take a minimum of three hours, in which we was supposed to sit there and pretend to be interested in whatever boring construct they decided to argue about on that given day.

He wished that he had been allowed to bring a book or something to keep him occupied. It was completely unfair of his parents to expect someone his age to sit through something like this. Good God.

Not to mention the fact he was to worried he'd do something wrong. He was generally a well-mannered kid, but what if he slipped up? How angry would his father be? Maybe he could just stay silent the whole time. If he did that, there was no way he could say something wrong. Then again… maybe he'd _have_ to speak. He didn't want to embarrass his father. That wouldn't turn out well for anyone, least of all him.

He tentatively sat down in the chair meant to be his, as though it might grow fangs and try to kill him. Almost everyone else was already there, which didn't make him feel any better.

Just then, the Lord of Aneille burst in, Chaol in tow. "So sorry we're late, Your Majesty. So sorry indeed. We got caught up with some family business." He bowed low, and Dorian didn't miss when he poked Chaol in the side, who then seemed to snap out of a trance and bowed as well.

"Don't worry; we were just getting started. You haven't missed much. Sit, sit." The king gestured for the pair to take their seats at the table.

Chaol sat down next to Dorian in one of the few open seats. The two grinned at each other, and Dorian realized that perhaps he might not be subjected to excruciating agony for the next few hours. Or at least not alone.

"Hi," Dorian whispered to Chaol out of the corner of his mouth. "How are you? We haven't seen each other in over a week!"

"I know!" Chaol whispered back. "I'm doing okay. You look much better. Your bruise is gone."

"Yeah. One of the maids gave me some salve that has really helped. I also feel better. What's been going on with you?"

"Oh, you know. The usual."

Dorian frowned. "Meaning?"

The King of Adarlan gave the two a pointed look. He didn't seem all too happy about the two of them goofing off. They both gave him apologetic looks, as though to say, "We're such good children. It won't happen again."

The king looked away and went back to listening to whatever one of the old guys was saying, which probably couldn't be about anything more important than a broken lantern in town.

Dorian and Chaol glanced at each other, remaining silent for a minute or two. Finally, Dorian couldn't help it anymore. He leaned over and whispered, "Great Goddess, he's such a tyrant. Can't he see we're having fun?"

Chaol snorted, doing his best to keep it quiet. "Oh I know right?" He mimed pointing at someone with his finger and a stern look.

Dorian laughed a little louder than he'd originally meant to. His father turned to him. "Dorian, is there something you find funny?"

"No, sir," Dorian quickly said, looking down.

His father folded his arms. "I'm sure everyone would be delighted to hear what you think of the new lighting plan for the city streets. You were paying attention now, weren't you?" His voice was full of warning.

Dorian shifted uncomfortably. "I um… it sounds good?"

"Really now? Interesting." He turned back to the council men.

Dorian looked at Chaol. "Sorry," Chaol murmured. "We should probably stop."

Dorian groaned inwardly, but nodded.

A few minutes later, Dorian turned back to Chaol. "So why were you late?"

Chaol shot him a look. "Seriously, Dorian," he whispered. "I don't want to get you in trouble! We were just discussing some things that really don't matter. They're all hypothetical and probably won't happen. Now stop talking before we're _both_ put through the wringer!" He looked annoyed, and slightly worried about whatever it was, but Dorian took Chaol's advice and stopped talking. Whatever it was, it wasn't important at the moment and Dorian could grill Chaol about it later.

* * *

After the meeting, Dorian ran into Chaol again. "Hey!" he said gleefully. "That meeting was dreadful, wasn't it?"

Chaol nodded. He looked upset by something. "Listen… I'm sorry for making the king mad at you."

Dorian shrugged. "It's fine. It's as much my fault as it is yours. I just wasn't able to keep from laughing. You shouldn't blame yourself for that. Honestly Chaol. You worry far too much." And with that, Dorian skipped off, having forgotten the tail end of their earlier conversation already.

He did sort of blame Chaol, but he didn't want him to know that. He could see that Chaol was upset with himself, and he really didn't want to encourage that.

Not too much later, Dorian bumped into his father.

"There you are!" the king exclaimed. He sounded far too cheery—Dorian knew that couldn't mean anything good. "I've been looking everywhere. I want to talk to you about that meeting. I would like you to keep going to these, but you can't do things like that! Do you have any idea how you made me look in front of all those people?"

Dorian didn't meet his father's gaze. "I'm sorry, sir. I didn't mean to. It was just so boring and I… I'm sorry. I know it's my fault."

"It sure as hell is! I told you before not to get in trouble again. My patience is waning young man. I don't know how much more of this I'm willing to put up with. Lord Westfall's son is a good kid, and you're messing with his amazing record! I need you to get your act together."

Dorian nodded. He felt so guilty, even though he knew he really shouldn't. He'd barely done anything at all!

"That'll be it for now. Run along, Dorian. And stay out of trouble. Please."

Dorian shook his head up and down quite vigorously before dashing away. He didn't want to stick around in case his father decided upon another verdict.

* * *

"I'm not sure how I feel about them staying friends," the King of Adarlan spoke softly to Lord Westfall. "It's been what—three weeks?—and they're already getting into so much trouble!"

"I know, sir. And I, too, am concerned. But perhaps we should give them one more chance? They are, after all, only children, and they need to be around others their own age. They need to make those connections, and, with all due respect, Your Majesty, I think that they might be good for each other." Lord Westfall wrinkled his brow. He didn't want the king to separate them. Chaol had been so lonely before he met Dorian. While he wanted his son to grow up to be a successful and well-rounded ruler, he also didn't want the boy to become cold hearted and thick sculled the way he had.

At first he'd been skeptic—Chaol had never been so unruly, or really disrespectful in any manner at all—but he'd slowly begun to see how jovial and lighthearted Chaol had become. The boy had been so beaten down for so long. It wasn't the type of thing that one wished to see in an eleven-year-old.

If it was only mild rebellion, he could tolerate it. It was only natural, after all. If it became too much, he'd have to do something about it, but for now, all he wanted was for his son to be happy.

The king sighed. "Perhaps you're right. I still think that they should be split up, but I'll allow it… for now. If, however, this becomes a problem, I will not hesitate to do what must be done. I hope you know that, Lord Westfall."

"I do, my king. I do. Please judge them fairly though. Like I said—they're just boys."

The king nodded slowly. "Yes. Yes indeed."

 **Chapter Release Date: October 14, 2017**


	5. Chapter 5: Unexpected Change of Events

**A/N: Enjoying the story so far? Favs and follows are really appreciated, along with reviews. I'd love to hear what you think, especially helpful criticism. I'm always hoping to get better at writing!**

 **Chapter Five: An Unexpected Change of Events**

As the weeks began to pass, Dorian and Chaol grew closer and closer. They'd thought in the beginning they'd be friends, but no one really expected them to become as tight as they were. By the time they'd known each other for no less than two months, they were doing everything together.

Before they'd met, both had been a little lonely. Isolated. Neither had ever really fit in with the other children of the court, and hadn't been particularly happy either. They spent many an afternoon in the library or out in the garden, but seeing as the days were getting both shorter and colder, they'd spent more time inside than out lately.

One such afternoon the two were, as could be expected, sitting in the library, reading. They never really bothered to go to any of the tables—too many people—so they'd taken to sitting in the middle of various aisles for quick access to new books when they finished the ones they were at that moment entranced in. The librarian did not enjoy this activity much, but seeing as both were higher ranked than he, all the poor man could do was scold them and beg their guards to take them elsewhere. Apparently, he didn't appreciate two young boys blocking aisle ways and misplacing books with no supervision whatsoever.

After what was probably hours of lounging in silence, Dorian remembered something he'd been meaning to ask. "Hey Chaol?"

Chaol was snapped from his own little world quite suddenly it seemed, as his head jolted up and his eyes could be observed to be several times larger than usual.

Dorian chuckled. "Scary book?" he asked.

"A little. What's up?"

"Well, we're closing in on your twelfth birthday, and I was wondering if there was anything you wanted—I mean, you're my best friend—actually, you're really the only friend I've ever had—so I thought I should try and do something nice for you."

"Oh…" Chaol trailed off, clearly touched. "You're my best friend, too. I'm so happy that I'm yours, but I'm not sure if there is anything I'd like."

Dorian nods. "That's alright. I'll find something."

Chaol looked back down at his book, but then seemed to remember something. "Er, Dorian, there's something I've been wanting to talk to you about."

"Okay? What is it? You can tell me anything!"

"Yeah, I know, but you're not going to like this. Listen… my father has decided to move the family back to Anielle."

"What?" was all the startled Dorian was capable of getting out of his mouth, which didn't want to work right.

Chaol sighed. "It's not for a while longer, but in just over a month, we'll be visiting for a little bit to get things in order. A year from now we'll be living there full-time, and I have no idea if we'll ever return. I'm so sorry Dorian."

"How long have you known about this?"

"Since that court meeting a while back…. You know, the one I was late to. I didn't think it would actually happen though! And I didn't want to worry you…. I'm sorry," he repeated.

Dorian couldn't even begin to describe how he felt in that moment. His friend who he'd barely known for two months was going to be gone, possibly forever. How could Chaol do that to him?

"Dorian…" Chaol said as Dorian slowly began to rise from his seat. "Dorian, I swear I did everything I could to try and convince my father to let us stay—or at the very least me. He's got his mind set and there's nothing I can do about it! Dorian, come back here!" But Dorian was already halfway out the door. "Dorian, please!"

"Just leave me alone, Chaol. I need some space."

* * *

Dorian lay in his bed, sobbing into the pillow. He didn't want to lose Chaol. They'd just met, and yet he'd already become so attached to Chaol. They were best friends, Chaol had said as much just now, and yet he was going to _leave Dorian_ in that hell hole. How could he?

One of the maids poked her head in. "Your Highness? Would you like some tea?"

Dorian glanced back, eyes red. He could see concern written across her face, but he honestly didn't want to talk to anyone. "Go away," he snapped. She flinched.

"Apologies, sir. I only wanted to help."

"No, no. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped." She nodded lightly, and the walked out.

He buried his face back in the pillow, moaning into it. Why did his life have to be so complicated? Some would kill for one like it, and yet here he was, miserable and bored. If only he'd been born on a farm, or to a lawyer. What if he'd been a doctor's son? Or maybe if he were an Eyllwian rebel… Anything would have been better than this.

He knew it wasn't Chaol's fault, but Dorian wished that Chaol had tried harder. Wasn't there anything that could have been done? He made to get up, but slammed his head into the headboard. "Shit!" he yelled out. The universe seemed to be working against him on that particular day.

* * *

Chaol, resting in his far less lavish room, was thinking similar thoughts.

He didn't want to leave the palace—not while Dorian was still there. He'd grown to care about the boy, and he knew he'd care a far deal more by the time the following year rolled around. He also knew that Dorian was probably upset with him right now, and he didn't know how to fix it.

He'd done his best and that was all he could do.

He fought back the urge to cry. He wasn't going to do it. He just wasn't.

Alas, he didn't have the willpower for that. Before long, tears were leaking from his eyes. Not too much time passed before they went from nice, pretty, soft tears to a torrential downpour of liquid.

He couldn't leave. Dorian was the only friend he'd ever known. But he knew he'd have to—he had no choice.

For now, he concluded, he should just cherish the remaining moments that he had with Dorian and not let anything go to waste, because after that, there would be no more memories, no more laughs, and no more lazy afternoons spent by each other's sides.

He sighed, looking around the room. He hated nearly everything about living in the glass castle; the food was too rich and the people even more so, but Dorian was one of few things he'd miss. He would miss his friend.

 **Chapter Release Date: October 21, 2017**


	6. Chapter 6: The First Goodbye

**A/N: Hey there! This is chapter six. Hope you enjoy it! Also, just a rumor a little birdy told me….** _ **Apparently**_ **chapter seven might be out early for Halloween, and chapter eight could be out when seven would have been released. Just speculation, and no factual basis of course… but it could happen… maybe… if you're lucky… =)**

 **Also, I'm so sorry that this is a little late. I got so busy last night, and posting this completely slipped my mind.**

 **Chapter Six: The First Goodbye**

As the days passed, Dorian forgave Chaol, seeing as it really wasn't his fault at all. Both of them knew that there was nothing that could or would be done, and that their friendship was going to be left to rot.

Though neither said it, they could feel the time ticking away and their weeks together waning. They held onto what precious bits of it they had left as tightly as they could, but regardless—no man is truly master of Time. All he can do is simply sit back and watch Time slip away from his feeble grasp. We can control what is made of that time, but not where it goes.

Dorian and Chaol were just beginning to learn that as they watched the minutes fly by, quickly turning from minutes to hours, and hours to days. It wasn't long before those days morphed into weeks, and then suddenly Chaol was off to visit Aneille for the first time since he was a baby. It wasn't for long this time, but Dorian knew it was only the start.

Dorian stood with Chaol on one of their few remaining days, saying goodbye to him for what would turn into the first of many, many times—a never-ending cycle that would be shaped by the two young boys growing into two young men, and hopefully, if Time was willing to be kind, they might even be able to become two _old_ men together, but that was yet to be determined, for Time seemed to have a mind of her own and was seemingly undecided on the fates that lay to the young prince and lord.

Time, of course, would come to decide later, but she wasn't willing to make a commitment just yet, so they were both still pawns resting on a chessboard, unknown players in an unfinished game come back to finish what had been started long ago. Or so Cain would later say to a time-traveler in an alternate reality.

But back to what was happening on that day. Chaol was headed back to Aneille. To visit— _this time_. Dorian, on the other hand, was destined to stay in that castle until the day he died—or at least that was how it seemed at that moment.

Dorian wrapped his arms around Chaol one more time. "I'm gonna miss you," he murmured into Chaol's ear.

"I'll miss you too, Dorian Havilliard."

"How long are you going to be gone again?"

"Probably a month or two. I don't know."

Dorian sighed. He felt tears threatening to fall, but he fought them back. Both the king and Lord Westfall were standing right there, and he didn't want them to see him cry. He assumed that something similar was going through Chaol's head, and indeed, it was.

Dorian finally pulled back out of the hug, knowing he couldn't hold on to Chaol forever.

That thought scared him— _forever_. What a concept. Perhaps his phrasing should have been different—he knew he couldn't hold on to Chaol until he died. That was better. Because of course forever would never happen, but until they died might. That sounded nice, but it was so unlikely to happen. There was no way they'd both live in such a manner as to choose friends over family and country.

Chaol's gaze met Dorian's. "Goodbye."

Dorian was jerked out of his thoughts with that single word. Goodbye. It seemed so real. It wasn't permanently, that goodbye, at least not yet, but it was soon to be. Was this what it was going to be like in a year? _No_ , Dorian reminded himself. _It'll be ten times worse._

Dorian managed to nod. He didn't say anything—he knew that if he did, he'd break down right there in front of everyone, which couldn't happen. He took a shaky breath.

Chaol glanced around. The king and Lord Westfall were currently deeply immersed in their own conversation. "Hey now," he cooed quietly, so that the two fathers wouldn't hear. "Don't cry. Please don't cry, Dorian. Then I'll cry, and that wouldn't be pretty. Deep breaths now," he comforted gently. In truth, he was only doing so to distract himself from the imminent fact of the impending march forward into Anielle.

Dorian did as Chaol said and took a deep breath. He didn't feel any better.

"We'll be friends forever, though, right?" Dorian asked. "No matter what. No matter how far we go, we'll always at least exchange letters."

Chaol nodded. "Alright. It's a deal," he said. Dorian knew that there was no way of ensuring that this deal not be broken, but it made him feel better about their chances.

"Chaol! Time to go," Lord Westfall called. "The horses are ready and everything's packed. There's nothing left to do but get on the road."

Chaol sighed. "Coming, Father!" He turned to Dorian. "Goodbye. It's not forever… this time."

Dorian watched as Chaol jogged away with those two simple words stuck inside his brain—this time. Yeah. This time. Next time it would be. Or if it wasn't, maybe whatever happened after that would be the last time they saw each other. Maybe Chaol would drop dead when he was 25. Or Dorian would vanish off the face of the planet with no trace left behind. Anything could happen, but chances were, they'd never see each other again after the current year finished passing.

* * *

As the horses moved away from the castle, Chaol tried his best not to start crying. It was only two months, after all. He shouldn't be crying over something as small as that.

But of course, it wasn't really that. It was the realization that this was what it was going to be like in less than a year when he was forced to leave for good. He wasn't prepared for that yet. Not yet, and probably not ever. What was he going to do without his best friend? Without his Dorian?

"Eyes on the road, Boy!" Lord Westfall snapped. "It'll do you no good staring off back at the castle the whole ride. You'll get your head stuck turned around and all cattywampus! You'd do best to leave the past where it is and just accept that you'll make new friends and that Dorian is not your future."

"But Father! He's my best friend! In fact, he's basically the only friend I've ever had! What makes you think I'll ever find another?"

He shrugged. "Maybe you won't. I'm not going to lie to you, Son. There are more important things out there than friends and girls. You'll learn that soon enough. Your people will always be first. In a life like that, friends are hard to come by. Forget him. Forget them all." He paused, scanning the road in front of him, like he didn't want Dorian to have to do that, but knew it was necessary. Then he continued with, "In the future, it'll be good that you're acquainted, but a friendship with him is not necessary, nor is it practical. I'm happy that you're happy, but it's not the main thing you should be focussing on, especially as you grow up. I'm sorry."

Chaol sighed. He didn't want to believe it, but it was starting to look like maybe he'd have to. He tore his eyes from the castle in the distance and looked straight forward the way he'd been instructed to.

He didn't want this life. He didn't want to be a lord. He just wanted to be normal, and he had a feeling that Dorian wished for the same.

 **Chapter Release Date: October 29, 2017**

 **A/N: Yeah, I know. I just felt like I should have Time be a person, controlling things the way the Greek fates did in the old myths. Cheesy? Okay, maybe.**


	7. Chapter 7: Just Two Months

**A/N: Happy Halloween you guys. Enjoy the chapter—it's sort of a sad one.**

 **Warning: The King of Adarlan slaps Dorian in this chapter.**

 **Warning: Dorian appears to be in a mildly depressed mood, but it's only implied. Just thought I should add that.**

 **Chapter Seven: Just Two Months**

Dorian stood on the balcony of his room, staring out at the world. It seemed so lithe, graceful, flexible, and gentle. So easily bent and changed; it flowed and turned as though that were nothing. Sure, it was wet and rainy, but at least it seemed normal. It seemed as though the world was fine. And yet somehow, he, Dorian, the Crown Prince of Adarlan, was not.

His mother would be yelling if she could see Dorian at the moment. He was dressed in sweatpants and a bathrobe, standing in the pouring rain, and looking completely disheveled.

He missed Chaol. It had barely been a week, and yet he was already miserable. Life was so dull without his best friend. He could go to the library and read, but it wasn't the same without Chaol there to make the occasional comment, lightening the mood. It wasn't the same without Chaol there to cause trouble with. It wasn't the same _without Chaol_.

Court meetings were a drag when his best friend was absent. They were absolute hell. Three or four hours of listening to the most boring conversations on the planet with nothing else to do.

Everything just seemed so bleak and useless now. And that was how it was going to be after Chaol left for the second time, and it would stay like that.

His tutors were even more boring than before, if that was even possible. Lecture after lecture. It was just a blank canvas of white, void of anything exciting or interesting that might hold even the slightest hint of joy or happiness.

Then there were the parties. The royal gatherings. He'd only gone to one since Chaol had left, and they had been torture. He'd sat at a table by himself for all five and a half hours, fiddling with the silverware until a maid scolded him for it, at which point he turned to the red and gold table cloths and his imagination to bring him pleasure.

Anyway, it was Chaol's birthday in two weeks. That was the only thing that brought him any joy. He wrote Chaol a long letter, mostly bitching about how bored he was, but detailing how much he missed and loved his best friend. It took him two days to write, and another day to edit. He wanted to make sure it was perfect.

His father was upset with this behavior, naturally, since it meant that Dorian was cooped up in his room all day for half a week. And that was for the letter _alone_.

In his exact words, "Young boys should be out playing and having fun, and should _not_ be in their rooms all the time writing to each other. That's what they should be doing with girls. Of course, at a more appropriate age so that they can—" And then the douchebag proceeded to ramble about women being property and other things that Dorian completely disagreed with.

By the end, the only point Dorian had really taken in was that his father could talk for longer than the average person without taking a breath, and that the king's mouth was very large.

Dorian, of course, at this age thought nothing of the "girls" part. Chaol was his best friend. Why wouldn't he try to create a nice letter for him? And why would anyone want to date? Or at least date a _girl_. They were nice and all, but… Yeah, okay, conversation for later.

Back on topic, the days after that dragged on, one becoming the next as easily as mud spilling into a winding river on a rainy day. Each one was the same as the last, and each could be expected to be just as boring as the next.

Dorian took no pleasure in most of his usual activities, and spent more time sleeping than doing anything else. This, clearly, was not behavior one wished to see in an eight-year-old. It was, in fact, behavior one would wish to observe in no one.

An average morning of Dorian's went something like this:

7:00 a.m.

The door of Dorian's room burst open. "Get up. You need to go to breakfast," his father said.

Dorian gave a half hearted grunt, before rolling over and falling back asleep.

8:00 a.m.

A maid bustled into Dorian's room. "You missed breakfast, dear, so I've set some out on the table in the next room. You should be getting up soon." Then she bustled out, leaving Dorian only half awake.

Then, he pulled the blanket back over his head, and went back to sleep.

9:00 a.m.

Queen Georgina wandered into the room, and shook Dorian. "What are you, dead? You need to get going! If you don't get up now, you'll miss your lessons!"

Dorian sighed, nodding in agreement. When his mother left the room, however, he went right back to sleep.

9:30 a.m.

The same maid as before hurried back in. "Your mother is getting upset, Dorian! Your tutors are waiting. Come on now, let's get you up, get dressed, you don't have time to eat breakfast…" she marched around the room, pulling out clothes for him and laying them out on the bed.

Dorian just shook his head, crawling back under the covers. "Go away. I'll get dressed on my own."

"Oh… Are you sure, dear?" she asked.

He nodded, and when the door shut for the fourth time that morning, he went—that's right—back to sleep.

10:00 a.m.

Queen Georgina stormed into the room, her face screwed up in an intense mixture of rage and annoyance with Dorian. "Get moving! Your tutors aren't happy!"

"Good," Dorian mumbled into his pillow. His mother shook her head.

She yanked down the covers, exposing his shivering body to the cold morning air. "Up. Now," she commanded him.

He groaned.

"You can't keep doing this, Dorian!" she cried.

And after that, they'd spend about half an hour wrestling with each other as Dorian attempted to return to the Land of Dreams, and Queen Georgina tried to get him into the World of the Living. I'd explain it in detail, but you'd be horrified. Let's just say that Georgina left the room both maniacally pleased with herself for getting her son out of his bedroom and furious, for she had yet _another_ bite mark from him to go clean.

Dorian, on the other hand, left upset and forlorn over the fact that he did _not_ get to sleep until noon like he so desired, and disappointed he hadn't bitten his mother harder. Maybe she'd have given up if he had.

This behavior did not go unnoticed by the king, as checked out as he might usually have been about the goings on in his son's life. And, impressively enough, he actually seemed to be concerned. He did not, however, display it in the way that most caring fathers would.

Queen Georgia would have paid more attention, as she was a more competent parent, but there was one other child she had to worry about—one that was not yet born.

The lovely queen was very pregnant at that moment, and her behavior was just about as erratic as Dorian's was, but that was normal for a pregnant woman. At least that was what Dorian was told.

These morning struggles with Dorian were about as far as her interactions went with him most days, and would most likely remain that way until she was put on permanent bedrest, at which point she would hardly see any of him at all.

She did, on occasion, check in with Dorian and see how he was doing, but she really didn't pay as much attention as she might have, were she in her usual state.

Things stayed this way for long enough that the king even worked up the respect and good nature to call his son to the throne room for a chat.

Dorian walked timidly into the room, that cold, fall morning, to see his father lounging upon his glass throne, appearing to be deep in thought.

"You called for me, Father?" Dorian asked timidly.

"Yes, I did indeed."

"What was it that you wanted, Your Majesty?"

In the past few weeks, Dorian had become much more polite and subdued in conversation. While it was quite enjoyable to the ear, it was not the most reassuring when you examined the state he was in.

"I wanted to discuss the way you've been acting lately, Dorian. You seem upset. Is this because of your friend leaving?"

Dorian sighed slightly. "Yes, I suppose it is. I just miss having someone to talk to."

The king shook his head. "You should know by now, Dorian, that you can talk to your mother and me whenever you want, if you so wish. There is nothing that you should feel as though you can't tell us, and if there is, then chances are it shouldn't be something you're doing."

"Yes, I know that, Father, but that's not what I mean!" He sounded distressed and upset. "I want someone I can have fun with, who I can play with! The way kids are supposed to! I want my best friend back! I miss him, and I don't think I'll ever find anyone else that I care about as much as I care about Chaol!"

The king pursed his lips. "Dorian, I know you feel that way now, but in time you'll see that it's for the best. Emotional attachments will only hurt you in the long run, and distract you from what's at hand. And I guarantee once you discover girls, you will care about others more than that boy. He doesn't matter in the scheme of things. He's useless. Most of the lords are. All they're good for is bargaining, and I suppose maybe for keeping control over a wider area, but still. He's useless." He sounded cold, and steady, and perhaps that was why it hurt so much when he said it.

Dorian furrowed his brow. "Of course he matters. Just because maybe he's not useful to you doesn't mean I don't care about him, and if I care about him, he matters!"

"No, he doesn't," the king responded firmly. "Your people and your family are what matters. He is neither. You will someday rule over him, but given the fact that he too will be a ruler of sorts, makes him less part of your overall people and more part of your council. He is there to guide you and help you, but you will be just fine without him."

"Father, he's the only friend I've got! You have to understand that you're wrong!"

 _Smack!_

The back of the king's hand collided with Dorian's cheek. "I am not wrong. Don't speak to me like that, or you'll find yourself in trouble. Get out of here and think about the fact that you're saying that one single person that you're not related to matters. He doesn't, and you need to understand that."

Dorian whimpered. "Okay," he managed to press through his feeble lips before scrambling away.

When he was finally back to his own room, he flopped down on the bed.

 _It happened again_.

What would Chaol be doing right about now? He wished that he were here. Things would be so much easier.

He hopped up and began to pace around the room. He'd sworn he'd tell the queen if it happened twice, but he wasn't sure if he could. Or should. That might just make things worse. He was so lost. Why couldn't Chaol be there to make everything better?

 **Chapter Release Date: October 31, 2017**


	8. Chapter 8: A Note Arrives

**A/N: I'm afraid this is going to be a little short. Sorry about that. It also is sort of just a filler chapter, and meant to be light hearted and fun, as opposed to the previous chapter, which was not.**

 **Did you all have a nice Halloween (if you celebrate it, that is)? I certainly did!**

 **Chapter Eight: A Note Arrives**

Chaol sat in the foyer of the house he was to live in. It was a nice place. Not as nice as the palace in Rifthold, but it was lavish and extravagant, nonetheless.

He missed Dorian a great deal, but probably not as much as Dorian missed him.

He was glad to be somewhere other than Rifthold. He didn't mind it there, but it was nice to switch things up a bit. Rifthold just felt too… _conservative_. It didn't really fit him. It was proper and stuck up. Everyone used proper language, he hated them all.

This was the house he'd been born in.

He had no memories of it, but he liked it just fine. It wasn't home, the way that Rifthold was, but he figured he'd get used to it eventually.

The town itself was a lot like Rifthold, but with a calmer touch. If you wandered out of the house at five in the morning here, most others would be inside, sound asleep. That was not the case at the palace.

The people were better, too. There were some boys that lived nearby. Plenty of them were of royal heritage, so he was allowed to hang out with them. He wouldn't call them friends exactly, but they were nice to him and fun to be around. He'd rather spend time with Dorian, but they weren't too bad.

He did miss Rifthold. He missed it a lot. It was home. It was his life. It was where he'd grown up. It was Dorian. He was just trying to look on the bright side, see the positive things about this new place.

To make things even better, his father seemed to understand how being away from Rifthold bothered him, and was very understanding about the whole thing. That wasn't what Chaol had expected. Sure, his father made the occasional comment about how it was better that Chaol befriend boys of his own rank and age, but the man did seem sympathetic about how much Chaol was about to lose.

While Chaol overall had a good time in Silver Lake, he was much gloomier than he'd been the prior month in Rifthold. It cheered him up a great deal when a five-page letter arrived from Dorian, wishing him a happy birthday two days before he turned twelve.

He wasn't sure how long it had taken for Dorian to write the letter, but it seemed well thought out and very sweet. He wrote back as quickly as he possibly could, taking much less care than Dorian had. Chaol was mostly just trying to get done with it so that Dorian could read it as soon as possible. Dorian had sounded… a bit off in his letter, and Chaol was worried about him. He wanted to get words of his own to his friend quickly, and hopefully make him feel better.

* * *

After just over a month of staying in Anielle, a notice arrived on their front steps. That morning was just like any other morning in early November, but that little letter changed so much for Chaol.

The note was from the King of Adarlan himself, summoning Lord Westfall back to Rifthold. The king wrote that Queen Georgina was looking as though she would give birth any day now, and it was requested that all the council members and their families families be present for the big day.

Judging by the ravenous-looking boy on a worn-down horse, the note must have been rushed there as quickly as could be managed with the technologies available at the time, so the Westfalls knew they still had a few days to get back.

Lord Westfall, of course, was not too happy about this sudden change of events. He had wanted to spend more time at home to get things settled, but it appeared he would not have such a luxury.

Lady Westfall, on the other hand, couldn't care less what they did. All she wanted was to live in a stable home for more than a handful of weeks and not be forced to move every other month. She didn't like long trips or camping, and would really have prefered to either be left behind in Anielle, or have never left Rifthold in the first place. However, she dutifully went with her husband back to the capital, not wanting to disobey the king's summons.

Chaol was elated to go back. One more month with Dorian? Amazing! Chaol could have four more weeks in the capital to goof around with his best friend than had originally been expected.

There were no pressing matters forcing their immediate return to Anielle after the birth, and it was more practical to stay in Rifthold until the move became permanent.

So, naturally, when this small pamphlet arrived in the post, he spent the morning bouncing off the walls and racing up long stairwells, all the while with parents and servants in tow, trying to restore order. It was quite an eventful day.

 **Chapter Release Date: November 4, 2017**


	9. Chapter 9: Chaol's Return

**A/N: How's school going, everyone? Alright? Not too great? *hears audience groaning* Yeah, okay, that's what I thought. Teachers piling on that math homework, eh?**

 **Audience member: "Don't remind me…. That's why I came here in the first place—to escape from that mountainous heap!"**

 **Okay… moving on…**

 **Chapter Nine: Chaol's Return**

Dorian stood just outside the front door of the palace. Chaol's father had sent a notice saying that they should be there on that very day and Dorian had decided to wait for them until they did.

Since his father could think of no extraneous task for Dorian to do, he'd had no choice but to allow his son to greet his friend—much to Dorian's satisfaction.

Immediately after he'd gotten permission, Dorian had sprinted through the halls away from the throne room as fast as he could. He wanted to get his father behind him and his Chaol in front of him. He knew Chaol wouldn't be arriving for some time, but he just didn't like the thought of maybe missing it.

He gleefully pranced through the hallways, carelessly flitting about.

"Sorry…. Opps! Didn't see you there. Oh! Didn't mean to knock that over. Woops! Coming through!" There came a steady stream of apologies from Dorian's mouth as he moved through the corridors, bumping into more than one servant, and definitely causing more than one mess.

And so there Dorian stood, eagerly awaiting the arrival of his best friend.

And he kept standing there.

And standing there.

And he waited.

And kept right on waiting.

Then, finally, when the sun was hovering just above the horizon, he spotted a group of horses and riders moving along the road through the city.

He could have jumped with joy, but instead, he decided to sprint over to the herd.

He came up on the band huffing and puffing, his lungs burning, but unwilling to stop until he got all the way there.

He could feel his pulse in his face, which was beet-red by now.

Sweat dripped down his neck and onto his all-too-expensive white shirt.

He was so close…. His legs were threatening to give out from underneath him. He hadn't been getting a whole lot of exercise lately, and he was starting to feel it.

When he was just a few meters away, he almost tripped over a bare root, protruding from the ground like an arm from a grave in some creepy story. He stumbled, almost falling, but managed to catch himself, before picking up the pace. He could manage it for ten more seconds, he told himself. It was only ten more seconds.

When he finally reached the seven or eight horses and their riders after what was a _lot_ more than ten seconds, Chaol put down two arms towards Dorian, and Dorian seemed to know automatically what Chaol wanted.

He grabbed Chaol's hands, and Chaol hoisted Dorian up onto the back of his horse, lifting him up. This action was a bit of a metaphor for most of their lives. Lifting each other up. Helping each other rise. But that was yet for them to learn, though it was one thing that Time was sure of in their future. But that's something for another _time_.

Lord Westfall shot the two boys a look. "Two boys should not ride a horse like that," he said, scathingly.

Chaol rolled his eyes. "Relax, father. It's fine! Jeese."

Lord Westfall grimaced, but seemed to decide that he didn't really care afterall.

Dorian wrapped his arms around Chaol's waist. "How are you?" he whispered in Chaol's ear.

"Good."

"Well."

"What?" Chaol asked.

"You're doing well, not good. It's incorrect grammar."

Chaol huffed. "Whatever." The two were reminded of one of their first encounters. "Don't correct my grammar."

"Barbarian," Dorian huffed.

"Stuck-up snob," Chaol hissed back.

Dorian pouted, and Chaol laughed slightly. "I ran all this way, and you insult me?" he asked, pretending to be offended.

"Now Your Majesty," Chaol said in a mockingly proper voice, "I never meant it like that!" The two of them giggled. "But on a more serious note, have you been alright? In your letter you seemed a little distressed."

"I am. I was! I've been feeling awful since you left. I don't want you to go forever!" Dorian complained, looking very upset.

A drip of sweat rolled down his forehead into his eyes, and he did his best to wipe it out of the way.

"I know. It's going to happen though, so right now let's focus on what's going on in the moment, not what'll happen in the future."

Dorian nodded, silently agreeing. He could live with that. They had eleven months of happiness ahead of them. Why ruin it now?

A cold breeze blew past the two boys. Dorian wrapped his arms tighter around Chaol, trying to savor what little warmth his friend offered. It felt oddly right, that position. He let that thought go, though.

When they finally arrived at the palace, Chaol and Dorian tore off down the hallways. They pretended not to hear Lord Westfall's scolding shouts from far behind them.

They spent the next few days together in a blissful daze, spending every waking moment they could together.

* * *

Weeks passed.

Dorian turned nine.

Prince Hollin Havilliard was born.

The royal family rejoiced.

And Dorian mourned having an obnoxious baby brother.

Chaol was indecisive as to where he stood on the young prince, but his opinion wouldn't take long to solidify on the idea that Prince Hollin was not, in fact, a prince at all, but the Devil sent to Earth to incarcerate them all.

Dorian, on the other hand, had decided that he hated the child's guts by the time Hollin was only one week old. No one else could see why, but Dorian had a nagging suspicion that Hollin would grow up to be just like his black-hearted father. Unforgiving. Barbaric. Cruel.

Plus there was that little thing called obnoxious whining that drove them all up the walls.

But speaking of black-hearted fathers, Dorian had decided to tell Chaol about his father hitting him again. Well, okay, only if it came up. Which it just so happened to not.

But anyway, as the time elapsed, it began to feel like maybe Chaol would never leave—maybe never even _had_ left. They were closer than they had been before. They knew every one of each other's dirty little secrets; the fact that when Dorian was seven he had set the kitchen on fire and never been caught was common knowledge between the two. Chaol's little incident with a gardening hoe and his mother's favorite hydrangea plant was old news. Even that insignificant detail about the gardener's toe. They couldn't imagine life without the other.

They spent the cold days in the library. The cool days in the hallways, causing what trouble they could without landing in muck themselves. The warm days they were outside, goofing off in the late afternoon sun. And then there were those days when they were cooped up in the council room for hours on end. They tried not to think too hard about those.

They even ended up at a party together. It was boring.

It had been held mostly for the adults, but the children of the royal families and the council members were invited to come as well. It was supposed to be in celebration of Hollin's birth, but the kids new the truth—it was just an excuse for the royal family to show off various parts of the Havilliards' palace.

Chaol and Dorian ended up sitting alone together for most of the time, giggling in the corner about various things. Finally, after hours of torment, the Lord of Anielle marched over and knelt down before them.

"Your Highness," the lord nodded. Then, turning his head, "Chaol." Addressing the two of them, he began to speak slowly, as though they might not understand what he was saying if he didn't. "It's getting rather late for kids. I'd like for you two to go back to your rooms, and so would the king. Is that alright?"

The two glanced at each other. A chance to get out of hell early _without_ being interrupted by either of their fathers for the next several hours? They both nodded their small heads as fast as they could. Lord Westfall pursed his lips.

"Alright then. Your guards will escort you," he said gently. Then he turned to the twelve men who were to accompany them. "Don't let them out of your sight. You hear me? These two are little rascals, and both of their parents will be occupied for several hours, so they're probably thinking up all sorts of pranks they could pull. If they wish for a detour, please use your best judgement."

Chaol and Dorian both grimaced. Were they really that transparent? He'd foiled their plan _already_! And their plan wasn't even really a plan to _be_ foiled!

Regardless, the guards all nodded, and before long, the two were walking out of the party together.

As soon as they were out of the hall, Choal turned to look at the men. "May we go to the library? It would just be for an hour or two, I swear!"

They all looked at each other, whispering back and forth, before saying that that would be acceptable.

Dorian and Chaol hurried off, guards in tow.

They spent most of the evening laughing in the library together, having an absolute blast. It was so much better than the alternative—to be stuck in that stiflingly hot room with a bunch of strangers and awful symphony music playing in the background.

It got late quickly. They'd lost their guards not too soon after they got there, and to be honest, Dorian was pretty sure that they were just monitoring the door, figuring that the boys couldn't do too much damage inside a place they loved to spend their time in, otherwise they wouldn't be allowed back, and the guards knew how much the two adored it.

Dorian and Chaol ended up sitting much closer together than they usually did, cuddled up and reading by candlelight in a long row of shelves filled to the brim with a plethora of books and scrolls. Dorian's eyes began to droop, and slowly, slowly, slowly, his head began to rest on Chaol's shoulder. He wasn't really asleep—just resting his eyes—or so he'd later come to claim.

Chaol did not fail to notice this behavior. "Hey? Dorian?" There was no response. Chaol sighed slightly, looking affectionately towards the prince. "We should get you back to your room," he whispered in Dorian's ear.

Dorian shifted a little, and mumbled something too incoherent for Chaol to make out.

Chaol, thanks to the past few months of training and sparring, had managed to build up his upper body strength. He easily lifted Dorian into his arms after returning both of their books to the proper shelves. He carried the young boy down the aisles toward the door where the guards stood silently.

Saying nothing, he then proceeded to walk the sleeping prince up countless flights of stairs and hallways until they reached Dorian's tower.

And then he lay Dorian down on his bed, removed his vest, shoes, and socks, and tucked him in. He kissed Dorian on the forehead, whispered, "Goodnight, Prince," and left the room.

The guards made no comment on this, only nodded to him, and then split up into two groups—one to stay at Dorian's door and the other to follow Chaol.

 **Chapter Release Date: November 12, 2017**

 **A/N: Hey, sorry for putting this out a little late. I've got so much on my plate at the moment. I feel like this is starting to become a bit of a habit though. I'll try really hard to be on time next week!**


	10. Chapter 10: Seasons Changing

**A/N: This chapter is a little sad. Dorian seems depressed, though once again, it is not flat out stated. I really like the first part of it. I don't know about you, but I like the way if flows.**

 **You guys having a nice winter (or summer, depending on where you live)? Getting snow? I don't live where it snows a lot, sadly, but I do enjoy snow when I visit family elsewhere.**

 **Chapter Ten: Seasons Changing**

Winter turned to spring, as could be expected. The snow melted, barren branches giving life to soft green leaves, and grass could be seen sprouting from the muddy ground. Rain dumped from the sky nine days out of ten, and the temperatures slowly rose. Dorian and Chaol spent most days in the library.

Spring turned to summer, as could be expected. The rain stopped, flowers burst from the gentle buds on branches, and grass could be seen turning yellow with heat. The sky was clear and blue nine days out of ten, and the temperatures stayed steady at hot-as-hell the majority of the time. Dorian and Chaol spent most days outside.

Summer turned to fall, as could be expected. The rain resumed, flowers wilted from their tarnished branches, and grass could be seen sagging and drooping, as though each individual blade was attempting to return to the ground. The air was full of mist and gray nine days out of ten, and the temperatures began to drop to a chilling cold. Dorian and Chaol returned to the library.

Fall turned to winter, as could be expected. Snow began to fall, branches became barren, showing no signs of life whatsoever, and the grass could no longer be seen once more. The sky was gray and white and cold nine days out of ten, and the temperature remained at an annoying temperature of freeze-your-ass-off degrees Celsius. Dorian and Chaol could no longer be observed together, as Chaol was now gone for good.

Yes, indeed, thirteen-year-old Chaol had left ten-year-old Dorian, and he probably wouldn't live there ever again, but it really depended on what Time had in mind for the rest of their lives.

Days passed, as could be expected. The gray skies became a metaphor for Dorian's depressive mood, deadened trees seemed to show what Dorian felt inside, and the grass that was no longer there seemed to represent Chaol. Dorian cried himself to sleep nine days out of ten, and the temperatures that froze him to death became what he craved, since at least he felt something when he was cold, rather than nothing. Chaol was gone. And there was nothing he could do.

That winter turned to spring, as could be expected, but that did not cheer Dorian up at all. He couldn't enjoy the snow melting without Chaol, or the first signs of green leaves, or even the grass returning. Dorian hardly noticed the rain dumping from the skies, but it gave him an excuse to stay inside in the library nine days out of ten, and the rising temperatures did nothing for him. Chaol visited only once that season, and only for a few days. Dorian was miserable.

Spring, of course, turned to summer, which would have excited Dorian, except for the fact he had no one to celebrate with. The rain stopped, flowers burst from the gentle buds on branches, and grass could be seen turning yellow with heat, but none of this made Dorian happy, since it meant that nine days out of ten there was warm weather and he was expected to go outside. But Chaol didn't visit—not even once—nor did he write, so Dorian felt like there was no real point. His father had been telling him to find new friends, but he really didn't want to. And he was sure that even if he tried, he would not succeed.

Summer turned to fall, as could be expected. The rain resumed, flowers wilted from their tarnished branches, and grass could be seen sagging and drooping, which only made Dorian happy because he had a reason to be inside all the time. The air was full of mist and gray nine days out of ten, and the temperatures began to drop to a chilling cold. Dorian immersed himself in his studies and began to go willingly to court meetings. Chaol didn't visit. He wrote once, and he seemed to be faring far better than Dorian.

Fall turned to winter, as could be expected. Snow began to fall, branches became barren, showing no signs of life whatsoever, and the grass could no longer be seen once more. The sky was gray and white and cold nine days out of ten, and the temperature remained at an annoying temperature of freeze-your-ass-off degrees Celsius. Chaol visited three times for several weeks each, and Dorian and he bonded over obnoxious fathers and increasingly difficult studies and old tutors.

Yes, fourteen-year-old Chaol was not having fun without Dorian, but he wasn't miserable either. Eleven-year-old Dorian was starting to improve, but he still seemed numb. He wasn't enjoying life much anymore. His best friend was gone, and moving on in life without him. Perhaps he should, too.

* * *

Both the king and Lord Westfall noticed this behavior, of course, but neither quite knew what to do about it. They had, several years prior, agreed that they should let their sons be together for the time being, but fearing that might lead to problems. Now it was the opposite that was true.

On one of their visits in late winter, the Lord of Anielle and the King of Adarlan discussed such matters.

"Lord Westfall, I understand that they're both upset, but they'll have to learn to live without each other. They must! This sort of thing would not be healthy once my son is king and your son has claimed your title. You must understand that!"

"Of course I do, Your Majesty," the lord murmured. Then, speaking up, he continued with, "But I do think they should be able to see each other more often. Chaol has spoken of how upset Prince Dorian seems, and I have a feeling he's probably leaving out the worst. Can you not see this?" Lord Westfall looked mildly agitated.

"I do see this, but as I said: They cannot continue like this! They will see each other only when you are needed at the palace or are otherwise already visiting Rifthold. I do not need Dorian getting more attached to your boy."

"Yes, Your Majesty," Lord Westfall said, defeated. He could not continue to argue with his king, or there would be consequences. He marched from the throne room feeling more upset than ever.

 **Chapter Release Date: November 19, 2017**

 **A/N: Sorry. This is the second chapter in a row that's come out a day late. I really do apologize. I'm going to try hard to keep that from happening again.**


	11. Chapter 11: Damn Kids

**A/N: Wow. One-fifth of the way there already! Just 44 more chapters to go. Enjoy.**

 **Warning: *spoiler alert* Bullies beat up Chaol.**

 **Chapter Eleven: Damn Kids**

Okay, so maybe Chaol had lied about his well being in the letters. Just a little.

He was being teased by the other boys who had almost become his friends. Back when he'd first started living there again, they'd seemed nice. Kind. They'd all been twelve at that point, and before long they were all in their early teens.

And now it seemed weird that Chaol's best friend was a) not one of them and b) not yet a teen.

He missed Dorian more than he'd ever let show.

Each day, he woke up, screwed on a face of courage, and tried to wipe Dorian from his mind. He'd usually make it through most of the day like that, distracting himself with little tasks, helping the servants (his father didn't approve), sparring practice, and horseback riding.

Then he'd reach the night, and he'd think about Dorian as he tried to fall asleep because he no longer had anything to keep him from doing so.

And then when he woke up in the morning again, he'd do once again what he always did. And each day, it got just a little bit easier, but not by a lot.

It was awful.

* * *

He was sitting outside one afternoon at precisely 3:24 p.m., contemplating whether or not to go for a ride or put in some extra hours on swordplay when they approached him.

"Hey!" Derek called. "Mr. Wants To Be King!" It was 3:25 by that point.

Oh yeah, and they also thought that he was grappling at power, trying to be friends with the prince.

"Let's be nice, guys!" Lucian scolded sarcastically. "We should let the Mrs. mourn the loss of his prince!" The other boys all giggled. 3:26.

"Shut up," he groaned. "You're just upset because you're not smart enough—or good enough—to get a real friend of your own. It's quite sad really. You run around making others feel bad when really all you want is to make yourself feel better. The sooner you realize that bullying won't get you shits any closer to being liked, the better. If you don't, I think one of these days someone's gonna have enough and you'll find yourselves face down in a pile of crap, dead."

"Ooh! Tough words for such a scrawny little boy!" Derek said, looking back at his comrades. "Care to see how true they are?" He seemed to have missed the point that it wasn't necessarily Chaol who would put them in the ground, but that didn't entirely matter to any of the idiots.

Or to Chaol, for that matter. All he cared about in that moment was the fact that six boys, all beefier and taller than he, were about to trample him. It was already 3:28 by the time he took of running.

He bolted for the trees as quickly as he could, hoping his smaller body would be enough to outrun the hulking beasts behind him.

Unfortunately, luck was not with him that day, and neither was Time, for he ran out of both before he reached the forest in the distance, being tackled and pinned to the ground and beaten. He fell at 3:33.

* * *

When Chaol stumbled back into the mansion, it was roughly 4:07.

Lady Westfall dashed over to her son as soon as she laid eyes on his bloodied and beaten form, cooing and yelling. He was dripping blood all over and had a light-sensitive headache. He wasn't quite sure how long he'd been out.

It was 4:09 by the time the nurse arrived on the scene, and 4:10 before she even started to get out her equipment.

At 4:38, Chaol was done being patched up and was sent to his room to go to sleep early at 4:45. He knew his father would want to talk about what had happened in the morning, and he really wasn't looking forward to it.

He lay wide awake in his bed until 6:57, when he got up, craving food, his stomach growling.

He'd spent the last two hours and thirteen minutes thinking about Dorian and the boys. What if they were right? What if he shouldn't be friends with Dorian? He was so much younger than Chaol, and he _was_ the prince. He shouldn't be so attached to someone who would have to put personal connections aside to focus on his country.

At 6:59, he had arrived downstairs to see his father and mother dining alone. "Mother. Father," he said by way of greeting them. "I was wondering if I could have dinner."

He braced himself for the imminent scolding from his father. He presumed it would either be about his sparring skills or his attachment to Dorian. He had given his mother a brief rundown of what had happened, and he assumed she'd told his father, which meant he'd be focused on the whole Dorian thing more than he usually was.

"Of course, Son," Lord Westfall said. "I was hoping to talk to you anyways," he smiled.

Chaol wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing, but he sat down anyway at 7:00 exactly. "What did you want to talk to me about?" he asked, fatigue laced throughout his voice. He knew what was coming, but he figured he might as well play it off like he didn't. No need to be overreacting already; perhaps his father wasn't going to end up yelling at him over the whole thing.

"Well, what the boys said to you, really." Chaol let out an infinitesimal sigh. He'd been right. His father gave him a look, probably regarding the show of disinterest and disapproval of the topic.

Lord Westfall pursed his lips. "I know you don't want to talk about it, Chaol, but you know we have to. Anyway, as I was saying, your mother told me what you told her, and I have to say, those kids do have some points." Chaol glanced at his mother, who was silently consuming her food as though she wanted nothing to do with this conversation. He wished that she would back him up. But his father continued, "He is so young, and you really should not be so attached to him. Plus, he's a bad influence. For the past two and a half years, you've been getting into trouble, and I think it's because of him. Before you two were acquainted with each other, there was hardly any rebellion to be had!"

"I know, father, but he's my best friend! Without him, who do I have?" Chaol was all too aware of the fact that the servants had all stopped to listen.

His father gave a mild grimace. "Well, you could always try making friends with some of the young lords around here. Or the children at school. Have you thought of that?"

"Yes, father! I have! The lords are all jerks and the kids at school hate me! Can't I just be friends with Dorian?"

"You can be, Chaol. Of course you can be. I'm just wondering whether it is the most practical choice." His father gave him a stern look, as though trying to will Chaol into agreeing with him.

Chaol looked down at his hands. Maybe they were right. Maybe he shouldn't be friends with Dorian. At all.

 **Chapter Release Date: November 25, 2017**

 **A/N: Hey, if you're liking this story, go check out my other work too! I've got a Christmas-themed Harry Potter fic coming out soon, so go read that if you've been enjoying this.**


	12. Chapter 12: Perhaps the End?

**A/N: Welcome to December. Doesn't it feel like 2017 should just be starting? My, how time flies.**

 **Chapter Twelve: Perhaps the End?**

Dorian stood at the castle steps. He was so excited—Chaol and his family were coming to stay for weeks, and they were arriving today!

He was practically counting down the seconds until Chaol was supposed to arrive. Perhaps a little more literally than was probably healthy for an eleven-year-old boy.

He skipped around the courtyard, examining each individual tree as he went. The snow was melting, and it wasn't going to be long before all of the trees were green again. Which unfortunately meant he'd be forced to go outside, but that was alright; it didn't matter right now, because Chaol was coming!

"Morning!" Dorian called to the gardener, who had just gone back to his job after the long winter. The man nodded back, glad to see the young prince in better spirits than he usually was.

"Dorian!" A harsh voice cut through the bitter air.

Dorian's head whipped around at the sound. It was his father. No point in trying to pretend like he hadn't heard the man—they'd already made eye-contact.

Dorian dropped his gaze to the ground hastily, not wanting to upset his father more than he already seemed to be.

He slowly trudged across the ground, doing his best to drag his feet through all the snow and muck he could, stopping every few feet to "try" to wipe it off, doing a spectacular job of making each pause last as long as possible.

He was fairly certain that whatever his father wanted him for, it wasn't good, judging by his tone.

"Hurry up!"

Dorian flinched. He walked a little faster, trying to muster up the courage to prepare for whatever was to come.

When he finally reached the stone steps on which his father was standing, the king grabbed him by the back of the shirt and began to literally drag him inside.

"Father!" Dorian moaned.

"You've wasted far too long out here," his father barked. "I will not have you spend _yet another_ day waiting for that boy to show up. It was excusable when you were eight, nine, even ten, but you are _eleven_ now, and you have duties to attend to. You have no lessons today, but that is no excuse for you to be dilly dallying outside when there are tasks to be done," the king scolded. "I'd be less opposed to it were it summer, but at the moment, it's cold outside. Do you understand how it looks for you to spend all day outside waiting for a boy? You could be helping your mother with Hollin, or practicing swordplay, or in the library learning, or going to the court meeting that was held two hours ago!"

Dorian sighed. "Please?"

"No," his father said, his voice stern and unyielding. "Go inside and put yourself to use. You may greet him when he arrives, but until then, you will behave yourself and attend to your duties. If I hear you've been misbehaving from anyone, you will be punished."

Dorian grimaced. "Fine," he groaned.

He marched away from his father having been hopelessly defeated. He would not get to wait for Chaol, the way he always did.

He shuffled his feet as he went, his guards following in silence.

"Sir?" one asked. "Are you alright? You seemed so happy before."

Dorian shrugged. "Yeah, but I'm not anymore. It's all I've been looking forward to for the last month." He shook his head. "But you probably don't care."

"Of course we do, sir," the same guard spoke. His name was Jeremy. "We all care about you. I've been on your morning detail since you were six. We're not supposed to get attached, but I think we all have. We want you to be happy." His forehead crinkled.

Dorian shook his head. "Okay," he murmured. "I'm fine though. I'll be fine. It's not like he won't arrive; I just can't wait for him."

Jeremy glanced at the other guards. "Alright then. Is there anywhere in particular that you'd like to go? The library, maybe?"

Dorian nodded. "Yeah… yeah, that would be good."

Jeremy pursed his lips. "We'll guard the doors. As far as we know, you're doing informational reading." He winked.

Dorian gave him a weak smile, before turning down the hallway that led to the library.

* * *

Dorian, who had been sitting in an empty row of books for the last four and a half hours, was alone with an adventure novel that Chaol had always liked, but Dorian had never bothered to read it. He had not seen his guards since he'd arrived, but he didn't particularly care.

He looked around, unable to keep his attention focused on the book. He'd barely read forty pages since he'd arrived, much less than he usually would have done.

He glanced towards the open windows, soft afternoon light flowing in and bathing the room in a golden-orange hue that was really quite beautiful. He sighed, staring at it. His mind began to go black, everything escaping his thoughts as he kept watching it.

His silent trance was interrupted by Jeremy rushing over to him. "Sir?"

Dorian's head jerked over. "Yeah?"

"Chaol's arrived, Your Highness. Just thought you might want to know."

Dorian vaulted to his feet, dropping his book, and racing out the door. He heard Jeremy give an indignant breath before following, clearly not wanting to have to sprint all the way to the entry hall.

Dorian dashed down hallways, tore through doors, shoved his way through crowds, and finally skidded to a halt in the entrance before a large group of people, one of whom was Chaol.

The two of them stared at each other for a second, as though neither quite knowing what to do.

It was Dorian who made the first move, walking at a normal pace towards Chaol as he tried to calm his breathing.

Finally, he reached his best friend after what seemed like an eternity. He threw his arms around Chaol's neck, who just stood there stiffly for a moment.

Dorian pulled away slightly. "Chaol? Is something wrong?" His momentary worry cut through his sudden joy as he looked at his friend with concern.

Chaol hastily shook his head. "No, no. Nothing's _wrong_ , per se."

"Then what is it?" Dorian asked inquisitively.

"I just… I don't quite know how to say this…"

It _sounded_ a bit like Chaol was trying to break up with him, except for the fact they weren't dating.

"Just spit it out," Dorian said, looking worried.

"I dun'wanna be friends wi'you," Chaol said, his words slurred and spoken a bit too quickly.

That single sentence made Dorian feel like an entire building had been dropped on him.

His world was ending.

It was one thing for Chaol to be a little bit further away from him than he always had been, but this was different. Now they weren't even friends?

This wasn't happening…. _It's not real. This is just a dream,_ Dorian thought.

 _Why can't I breathe?_ He wondered. His lungs wouldn't work right.

There! Finally! He got a breath in.

 _It's just a dream. This isn't real. I'll wake up any second now,_ he told himself.

" _What?_ " Dorian finally managed to choke out after several minutes of silence.

"I don't want to be your friend anymore," Chaol repeated, slower this time, clearer.

He almost looked like he felt bad about what he was saying, his lips pursed, his eyebrows furrowed, concern written across his face, but in that moment Dorian didn't care.

He turned around and walked slowly away, feeling strangely cold. His whole body felt stiff, and like it wouldn't work properly. He didn't feel like talking to Chaol about this…. No, he didn't want to talk to Chaol.

"Dorian… I'm—"

"You're what?" Dorian cut Chaol off. "Sorry?" he asked, turning around. "Because if you were, you wouldn't have said that."

"But I _am_ , Dorian, I really—"

" _No_ ," Dorian whispered. "I don't want to hear it."

The look on his face was enough to kill, and the sound in his voice honestly scared Chaol.

Dorian then turned right back around and kept walking.

He had to get out there…. He couldn't stay… couldn't see Chaol standing there so happy…. Everything was wrong….

 _One foot in front of the other. Just keep on moving._

He made it all the way up to his tower without really registering much.

His guards said nothing to him, seeming to understand he didn't want to be talked to.

 _Not real. Not real. Not real._

He slowly lay down in his bed, feeling the way the mattress sunk under his weight.

Yes… everything would be better tomorrow….

He'd lost his best friend.

 _Not real_.

His only friend.

 _Not real_.

The only thing in this world he cared for.

 _Not real_.

He closed his eyes the moment his head hit the pillow, and was out like a light.

He slept hard that night, and didn't dream at all.

* * *

When he finally woke the following morning, he at first was gleeful—after all, Chaol was visiting!

But that thought of Chaol brought back everything.

 _Maybe he didn't mean it,_ Dorian thought. _Maybe I misinterpreted it. He said it, but it was something else he meant. It was just a big misunderstanding._

Try as he might, though, Dorian could not come up with another meaning for "I don't want to be your friend," other than the obvious one, nor could he decipher what Chaol could possibly have meant by saying it other than what it had sounded like.

He got up at 6:30, unable to fall back asleep.

He raced down stairs, hoping to get to speak to Chaol about the whole thing. If they could talk things through, maybe their friendship wouldn't have to end.

This was the first time he'd gone to a court breakfast since Chaol had moved away, Dorian suddenly realized as he stepped into the mess hall.

With a sudden twang of sadness, he remembered all those mornings with Chaol, eating, and laughing, and complaining about having to get up so early just for a decent meal. Then afterwards, running around the room and annoying everyone who wasn't finished eating their breakfast.

After that, they'd always get a stern talking to from their parents about causing mayhem, and they'd nod along and pretend to listen, inserting the occasional, "Oh yes, it won't happen again, we swear!"

He gave a heavy sigh as he walked towards the table he'd always sat at before, plopping down in one of the seats and heaping his plate full of food and tucking in. Most people there were already eating.

A few minutes passed, during which time Dorian spent stuffing his face full of food and not saying a word.

Then, the doors swung open again. Dorian's head swung up from the table, and sure enough, it was Chaol.

Chaol, however, did not seem to take any notice of Dorian. In fact, he was looking everywhere _but_ Dorian.

He sat down at a table with his father, mother, and brother, making no move as to indicate any inclination towards joining Dorian.

Dorian decided it would be best not to interrupt immediately, so he remained seated for a few more minutes. He attempted to finish horking down the rest of his food, but it no longer seemed as appetizing as it had just a few seconds prior.

Finally, he could hold off no longer. He shot to his feet and walked towards the Westfalls.

He sat himself down right in the open seat next to Chaol, and turned to the young boy. "Chaol," he said by manner of greeting.

Chaol straightened his back a little, putting his knife and fork elegantly down on the side of his plate before turning to face Dorian.

"What are you doing here?" the young lord asked in a very matter-of-fact way.

"I wanted to talk to you, of course," Dorian responded, a little hurt. "You know… about what you said."

Chaol groaned a little. "Just leave me alone, alright? I've outgrown you! Accept it already," he snarled.

That stung quite a bit.

Dorian, doing his best not to start crying, got up and hurried out of the dining hall a brisk pace, trying to get out of there before he heard anything else Chaol had to say about him. He knew it would only make him feel worse.

He reached the doors and darted out, moving around the corner and out of sight as soon as possible. His guards weren't with him—in the breakfast hall, they only had need for the grounds guards. He'd told them to come back for him in an hour.

It had only been 25 minutes.

In that moment, however, he was very grateful they weren't there to see him break down the way he did.

He darted around corners, getting as far away as he could, his eyes welling up.

When he finally reached a more isolated section of the palace, he slid down one of the walls, tears in his eyes, glancing up and down the corridor as he did so, glad to see that no one else was there.

A steady stream of water began to flow from his eyes as his entire body shook. Sobs wracked through his entire, slender form, his heart breaking.

He'd lost his best friend. Chaol was truly gone.

He'd been gone before, thousands of kilometers away, but this was so, so different. Now, he was _gone_.

He stayed like that for a while—sitting there, leaning against the wall, his legs tucked up against to his chest as he sobbed, his eye sockets pressed into his knees, his breath coming in ragged, uneven breaths.

Dorian wasn't sure how long he was there. It was only when his guards showed up that he even realized much time had passed at all.

One of the younger guards, Jeydon, knelt down next to the boy. He wrapped his arms around Dorian, and rocked the boy until he finally stopped crying.

Sniffing, Dorian pulled away, wiping his nose on his sleeve, not caring what anyone thought of the action.

"What happened?" Jeydon asked. He looked so much more worried than the rest of the guards, not as hardened by time. He couldn't have been more than eighteen. "We've been looking for you everywhere," he added as a side note.

Dorian shrugged. "He really means it," he whispered, not bothering to address Jeydon's second comment. "He means what he said. About not wanting to be friends."

He assumed that news had reached the morning shift from his evening detail about what had transpired last night.

Jeydon nodded slightly. "Is there anything we can do, mate?"

Dorian shook his head, standing shakily, and beginning to head to the library, before realizing Chaol might be there. In the end, he decided to go outside for once.

* * *

The next few days were spent in a hazy reality that didn't seem quite right.

Dorian wasn't sure why it was, but rather than feeling hurt and upset, he just felt numb. Like nothing mattered anymore.

Even before, even in his darkest moments, he'd still cared at least a little about something. But now that something was gone. It had been ripped from his feeble grasp so carelessly.

He came to the conclusion that he hated Chaol. He hated Chaol for what he'd done. He'd left Dorian. Chaol had to have known how upset Dorian had been since he'd left, and he'd left him.

After the numb feeling passed, he was consumed with hatred and rage. Towards Chaol, for doing this. Towards himself, for not trying harder. Towards the king, for not trying to help. Towards his brother, for stealing his mother away. Towards everything and anything in his life because it all had to have played some part in what had happened.

He spent most of his days locked in his room, drawing, writing, and reading away from prying eyes. That way, he knew that Chaol couldn't come see him—his guards had orders to turn away all of the Westfalls unless the circumstance was dire. And he didn't regret it at all, cutting the Westfalls from his life, but the months during which they were gone made him wonder if he shouldn't have.

But regardless, he didn't repeal his orders.

That is, until a day in early May when Chaol was back in the palace once again.

The traitor had visited only once since what had simply become known as "The Incident" in Dorian's mind, this being his second.

That particular day, Dorian was sitting in his room, contemplating what to do about his life.

He had barely experienced joy in months, and when he did, it was short lived.

He hated everything he did, and he didn't feel like he had anything left to live for; his life was already predetermined for him, and it seemed pretty bleak. The rest of his days were going to be exactly like they were at that moment—boring, useless, pointless, and miserable.

He couldn't talk to anyone about those feelings, though.

His father would tell him what he always did with anything like this—that he needed to grow up and be a man, deal with it himself.

His mother wouldn't be any help; she had her hands full with Hollin and wouldn't be able to do anything for him.

And of course, he couldn't trust any of his guards with it—he didn't really _know_ any of them.

In situations like this, he'd usually turn to Chaol. But Chaol wasn't there for him the way he used to be.

He wasn't there _at all_.

He was immersed in these depressing thoughts when suddenly, the door was flung wide open. Chaol was standing there, decked out in riding gear and carrying a sack with him. He'd just gotten in, by the looks of it. He hadn't even put his things away yet.

Dorian's guards were all standing behind him, panting.

"I'm sorry, Your Highness," Jeydon weezed. "He's so fast…"

Dorian glowered. "Not your fault. What about the guards who were supposed to be right outside my door, rather than downstairs at the tower entrance?"

Jeremy shifted uncomfortably. "They… er… wanted a break. I didn't think anything would happen!" Jeremy said. "And besides, they'd never done anything wrong before, so I figured it would be fine!"

Dorian sighed, standing there in silence for a moment or two.

He wasn't sure if he should give Chaol the liberty of being heard out.

Finally, he turned to Chaol with a menacing glare. "And what, might I ask, are you doing here? Don't you have unpacking to do?"

Chaol looked down at his feet. "I just… I…" He broke down sobbing right there in the doorway.

Dorian's guards looked at a loss as to what to do.

Dorian waved a hand at them, dismissing them. "Leave us," he murmured.

They nodded, and scurried out, closing the door behind them.

Dorian walked over to Chaol. "What's wrong?" he asked, whisking the 14-year-old boy's hair from his eyes.

Everything that had happened over the last few months seemed to have been suddenly forgotten by the prince, and all he cared about was his best friend's well being.

"Oh… shh," Dorian said softly as Chaol's crying picked up pace. He wrapped his arms around Chaol, hugging him tightly. "Shh."

They stood like that for what could have been minutes, but also could have been hours.

After a bit, Chaol's crying stopped. "I'm sorry," he got out. "I'm so sorry for everything, Dorian. I was wrong. I was so, so wrong."

Dorian couldn't do anything but nod. He wasn't sure what to say, so all he said was, "Why?"

Chaol shook his head. "I don't know. I was stupid. Back in Anielle, there are some boys who were… not being great to me." He gave a little sniff. "And it was mostly because I was friends with you. And my father said I shouldn't be, he seemed so annoyed with us being friends, so I thought maybe things would be better for everyone if I stopped hanging out with you. My father would like me more, the boys would stop teasing me, and maybe we'd both be able to move on. I thought if I gave it time…. But I was wrong." He looked like he might start crying again.

Dorian sighed, wrapping his arms around Chaol. "It's alright," he whispered.

He wasn't sure why he was forgiving Chaol so easily, but that answer would be determined in time.

Because even if it wasn't apparent then, he wanted to be more than friends with Chaol.

The two boys stood there forever in silence.

Healing.

 **Chapter Release Date: December 2, 2017**


	13. Chapter 13: An Idea in Place

**A/N: Wow, chapter thirteen, huh? This story is definitely coming along well. Hope you like this chapter.**

 **Chapter Thirteen: An Idea In Place**

Chaol sat on a bench, watching the guards practice.

He did that whenever he was feeling nervous or anxious about anything. He'd just come here and watch them work themselves until they could go no further.

It relaxed him somehow. He wasn't entirely sure why, but it did.

Right now, his reason for being there was that he was concerned about Dorian.

The boy hadn't been doing too well since they'd stopped being friends, and even now that they were again, Dorian seemed a little more distant than usual. He never wanted to talk about it, always said he was fine, but Chaol knew that wasn't true.

He wasn't sure what to do about it, though. They'd been friends for what felt like forever, and Dorian had never so deliberately lied to him before.

Of course, there had been the little things—white lies, and a few instances where Dorian felt like the truth would upset Chaol more than a lie—but he'd never held his stance so firmly, never put his foot down and so clearly told a lie to Chaol.

And on top of that, the kid had an iron will. If he didn't want help, he wouldn't take it.

Chaol just hoped his love of Dorian would be enough to save the prince, though he was doubtful that sort of cheesy sentiment would do much.

His thoughts continued to darken as he watched the guards twist and turn around each other, locked in a deadly dance.

It was really quite beautiful, he thought—the way they moved.

He sort of wanted to be like them. He'd been excelling in his self-defense classes lately, and he really enjoyed them, too. He liked feeling like he could make a difference, and those classes were one of the things that made him feel like that. As though just maybe, if he could do enough in there, he might be able to do something out… _there_.

But he never would, he realized. Because he was just a lord. He was not destined to be a guard, to help people the way he wanted.

No, at best he'd end up a stuck-up old man, alone and sad, a foothold for the king.

He didn't like that idea.

It sort of scared him, to be honest.

He didn't want any of those things. He just wanted to be normal. Maybe a little talented at fighting, but definitely not a lord. He needed some help with this—both Dorian, and his occupational dilemma.

* * *

Dorian and Chaol were nestled in a little nook far from the prying eyes of the other castle residents, reading.

It was a little hole in the wall behind a tapestry. There was barely enough room for the two of them anymore; when they were younger they'd fit better. Now they were crammed in there next to each other, everything touching as they read by the light of a candle haphazardously placed in a tiny hole in the wall.

Chaol looked up from his book, suddenly reminded of his earlier musings.

"Hey Dorian? Can I ask you something?"

"Anything," Dorian responded.

"Well, I was thinking… I don't really want to be a lord anymore." He'd decided to start with this. It would be much easier to follow with the "needing help" speech rather than to lead with it.

"That's sort of how most of us young royalty feel," Dorian said matter a factly. "But what else is there for you to do? This is what you're supposed to be!"

Chaol shrugged. "I can't help but feel like it's not. I mean, I'd really like to be a guard." He smiled sheepishly. "I want to make a difference. Be more normal."

"And you can make a difference! But not like that. It's so dangerous, Chaol," Dorian said, a worried look on his face. "Besides, how would you even go about becoming one? Your father would never agree, and then there's the other little fact that you're a _lord_. And there's no way you're ever going to be ordinary, Chaol. You're too amazing for that." He smiled a little.

"Yeah, I know," Chaol groaned as he looked away from Dorian. "I can't make a difference as a lord though. I'm not gonna help people. You have to realize that—all our kind ever seems to do is hurt people. Sure, we're there to uphold the law, but we don't really appear to be any good at that."

Dorian nodded slightly. "I guess I sort of agree with that. This country would be better served if it were a democracy. Unfortunately, it is no such thing, just as you are not a guard, nor will you ever be. It's a crazy thought, and should be dismissed now. You can't waste time on hopes and dreams that can never be." He turned back to his book.

Chaol was a little upset by that, and surprised by how much Dorian sounded like his father.

He just seemed so… void of _dreams_ and inspiration. Like he no longer believed them to be able to come true.

"We can't escape our fates, Chaol," Dorian whispered. "You know yours, just as I know mine."

Chaol frowned at that. He did know his fate, except now he wasn't so sure.

Was it really determined by what was expected of him? Or was it by what he wanted his fate to be?

He grimaced, and turned back to his book, deciding not to push the subject further, also realizing that now might not be the best time to try and get Dorian to open up—he'd just gotten that vacant look on his face that indicated he was in a land far, far away, and it was most likely not a pleasant one.

* * *

Chaol spent every waking moment thinking about all of this. He wanted so badly to be a royal guard. This wasn't the first time it had crossed his mind, either.

He'd been thinking about it since he was seven. He'd just never considered it so seriously until now.

It was his dream to be a royal guard, be able to defend people. Maybe he could be a city guard. That sounded good, too.

Whatever he did, he didn't want it to be something stuck in a slimy mansion all day doing paperwork and giving orders. Even if he had to abdicate his title to do so.

 _No_ , he thought, _Let's not go there yet. It hasn't gotten that bad. Maybe I should talk to my father, see what he thinks._

This, of course, was not his brightest idea, as his father would surely say something similar to what Dorian had said. Regardless, he marched on.

He headed into his father's office, knocking lightly on the door as he entered. It was the same office his father had always used in Rifthold, and it wasn't currently being occupied by anyone else, so he'd taken it over once more, or at least for the next week.

"Chaol!" Lord Westfall said, looking up from his desk. "What are you doing here at such an hour?"

Chaol glanced outside. He hadn't even realized it was that late. He shrugged. "I was up, and I wanted to ask your opinion on something," he said.

Lord Westfall nodded. "Yes, anything. Sit down," he beckoned.

Chaol frowned. His father was in an unusually good mood. He wasn't sure what that meant.

"Well, I was wondering what you'd think of me maybe training with the royal guards for a little bit."

His father nodded a little. "That could be good! You've been doing so well in your self-defense lessons. I don't see why not."

Chaol nodded along eagerly. "Well, see, I was thinking maybe I could train with them to maybe someday _be_ one of them."

It seemed to take a moment for this to register in his father's brain.

Lord Westfall furrowed his brow. "Well, Chaol, you can't be a guard. You'd be at risk. Besides, when would you find time to do all your lordly duties?"

Chaol pursed his lips. "With all due respect, Father, I don't entirely _want_ to be a lord, so I was thinking I might… ah… drop that all together."

His father shook his head. "Absolutely not! Get these foolish thoughts from your head! I've changed my mind—I don't want you training with them at all! You shouldn't have these ideas. You will be what you were born to be, nothing less and nothing more. You hear me?"

Chaol looked away. "Yes," he muttered. "Goodnight."

He got up from his seat, disappointed at how it had gone, but not totally surprised. He wasn't sure what he was going to do now.

He knew that things were going to be difficult if he was really serious about this, but now that his father had told him not to, it almost solidified the idea in his brain more—he needed to be a guard.

This pursuing of his dream, however, drove most of his thoughts on Dorian's mood out of his head.

 **Chapter Release Date: December 9, 2017**


	14. Chapter 14: Training Begins

**A/N: We're getting closer and closer to the end of 2017…. I mean, doesn't it totally feel like it should still be January?**

 **Chapter Fourteen: Training Begins**

Chaol sat, watching the guards train the way he often did these days. Only this time, it was for a different reason than usual. He wasn't here just to watch. He wanted to participate.

He stayed on that bench for nearly twenty minutes, contemplating whether or not he should go ask, and if he did, how he might go about doing it.

This mental argument went on for some time as Chaol weighed his options:

He could go over there right now, interrupt one of the guard's training, and ask him to help him out.

This, however, could be seen as rude, and the guard would probably dismiss him right away, which was less than desirable.

He could also choose to wait until they were all done, but at that point, they'd be tired and hungry, and more likely to be snippy with him, which could also lead to rejection.

Then there was choosing the _right_ guard:

An older one would tell him exactly what his father and Dorian had.

A middle-age one would probably be hesitant to do something outside of orders. One of them would be smart, calculating, and understand that it probably wasn't the best choice for either Chaol or them to make.

That left the young ones, who would probably be more careless in their training, but they'd be the dreamers, the ones who understood what it meant to want something.

He sighed. There was so much to think about. He didn't know a lot of them, except for Dorian's guards. Perhaps he could start there.

Jeydon could be good—he'd be free in the afternoons, and he was young. Plus, he was often thrown to the side, his ideas dismissed because of his age, so he'd understand how trapped Chaol often felt.

Jamie would be another acceptable option.

Also from Dorian's morning shift, she was the only woman on the entire force, and would probably be a lot less hot headed and more patient than many of the men in the royal guard. She'd had to fight tooth and nail to get in, given the rules about women joining, but after she'd beaten the captain of the guard in a fight, they'd really had no choice but to agree.

Jamie would understand how it felt to be ignored, the way Jeydon did.

Ky, from Dorian's afternoon shift might be good, but he'd only have mornings and afternoons, which would mean less uninterrupted training time.

Jamie was probably his best bet, he decided. She would understand his struggles, be more patient, and give better instructions than most of the others.

Yes, he'd go to her first, and convince her. If she wouldn't go for it, he'd ask Jeydon. Jeydon would probably be more likely to agree than Jamie, but Jamie would be a better trainer, which was the more important thing.

Then there was the timing.

He watched as Jamie twisted and turned around three men.

They were using San Miguel Eskrima sticks, and she was kicking their asses.

 _Whap!_

One of her sticks collided with someone's knee. He fell to the ground. With her foot, she rolled him out of the way as quickly as possible before pushing another man over him, where he landed in a heaping mess, is bottom sticking up in the air and his cheek pressed into the matted floor.

Then she turned on the final one, dodging one of his blows as she whirled through the air.

"Careful," Chaol heard her say. "If your aim isn't precise, it'll just put you off balance."

He scowled, and made another move towards her. This one came much closer to its target than his last, but she still got out of the way just in the nick of time.

"Move faster. If you take that long to execute a strike, you'll be dead before you know it. Slow movement gives your opponent time to react, and that's not something you'll be so keen on when you're out there fighting someone a lot angrier than I am."

She didn't even appear to be trying when she struck him in the base of his spine and whacked him in the front of the chest, knocking the wind out of him as she increased the speed at which he was falling.

She stood there for a moment, looking proud of herself for having beaten all three of them, but then her look of thrill and excitement died.

"You three need to spend more hours training," she said. "If _one_ person can hand your asses to you as thoroughly as I did in as little time, we need to change something about how you're practicing."

Groaning, one of them made to get up. "You're not our boss," he wheezed.

"No, you're right," she cooed. "I'm not. But he is," she gestured to the captain of the guard, who was overseeing the current work out that they were all participating in, "and I don't think he's going to be too pleased with your performance today, especially if you don't take responsibility."

They all made faces, but none of them argued any further as they hoisted themselves to their feet and trudged off to go work on their lacking skills, heads hung low in shame.

Jamie stood there, watching them go with a thoughtful expression on her face.

Chaol decided to take this moment to pounce.

He hopped up from the bench, and walked over to her, brushing off his breeches as he went.

He gently tapped her on the shoulder. She jumped, whirling around and placing one of her sticks against his throat with a little more enthusiasm than was probably recommended.

"Oh… sorry," she said, looking a little embarrassed.

He shrugged, directing her stick down to her side. "It's fine." He gave her a shy smile.

"What are you doing here?" she asked as she began to wrap her hands. "Aren't you some lord's son?"

He gave another little shrug. "Well, I like to come watch the guards train. Surely you know that by now."

She nodded as she tore at the end of her hand wrappings.

"Yeah, I do. I meant what are you doing over here on the mat talking to me?"

He paused. "I was wondering if I could train _with_ you."

She stopped. "No." She looked him dead in the eye as she said it. "You can't."

"Why not? You don't even know _why_ I want to train with you!"

She sighed. "I'm guessing you've got some dream about becoming one of us. Newsflash—that's never going to happen. You weren't born a commoner; you were born a lord. You are destined to be protected, not to protect."

He shifted uncomfortably. "Well… maybe."

Jamie looked at him for a second. "It's not going to happen," she repeated.

"But surely people said the same to you!" Chaol cried in desperation. "When you said you wanted to be a guard! Did they tell you it would impossible because you were a girl?"

She pursed her lips. "Yes, I suppose they did. But that's different. I had no future ahead of me. I was just going to be married off to some farmer's son, and live the rest of my days as a housewife. I wouldn't have inherited any of the little money my family has, and even if I was going to, becoming a guard was a huge step up. Sure, there was disapproval, but in the end, it was actually a practical choice."

"I know, I know, but this is really what I want. Besides—training won't hurt, will it? Just because I can defend myself better than the average lord doesn't mean I'm going to stop being one."

Sighing, Jamie turned to him. "Fine. But if you get in trouble, I don't want to be involved."

"Thank you!" Chaol yelped as soon as the "fine" had left her lips.

"On second thought—"

"No," Chaol quickly said. "I'll be good! I'll do what you say, I won't make a big deal out of things, I'll be nice, and I won't tell anyone. I swear!"

"Okay, okay. Meet me here every Wednesday and Friday you're in Rifthold, and I'll help you out. I'll give you things to do when you're not here, too."

He nodded quickly.

And so began his training.

He met her every day single day that he could and she was up for, and before long, a few of the other guards had joined in helping.

And true to his word, he kept it a complete secret. He mentioned it to no one, not even Dorian.

Chaol began to excel very quickly, even with his limited time with Jamie and the other guards. He practiced as much as he could with and without them, and Jamie was shocked when he soon matched many of the guards in his skill level.

* * *

One day in early June, Brullo walked in on Jamie and Chaol sparring.

"What is this?" he demanded. "Why are you sparring with a young lord?"

Jamie stopped immediately.

Chaol, his hand still flying through the air, was able to do no such thing.

Jamie's arm flicked up, her hand grasping Chaol's wrist and holding him still until he relaxed.

"It's my fault," Chaol finally said. "I made her do it."

"I don't believe that for one second," Brullo glared. "She is 21 years old and can beat most everyone here in a fight. She's probably smarter than all of the guards in this room combined. There is no way that she was duped into doing anything by a 15-year-old boy such as yourself."

Jamie sighed. "I'm sorry, Brullo! He reminded me so much of myself… I couldn't say no!"

Brullo cocked his head. "Do you have permission from anyone to train him?"

She shook her head guiltily. "I don't, sir, but it felt like the right thing to do, Besides, training him can't hurt, can it? Whatever happens, he'll be better equipped in an attack against him!"

Brullo shifted back and forth. "Fine. I guess… I guess you're sort of right. But if he's being trained, he better be being trained right. I will help out with his lessons on one condition: If his father finds out, I will not be held accountable for anything."

Chaol nodded. "Yes, sir. As far as my father knows, both of you were told he was fine with the lessons."

After that, Brullo became one of the regular trainers of Chaol, and he did a better job of explaining things than most of the guards ever had.

* * *

The months passed, Chaol and Dorian became more separated than they'd been in the recent past, and Chaol wasn't quite sure why, but he was distracted from that by all the training he was doing.

Even when he was in Silver Lake, he trained up to two hours a day. He'd do more if he could, but his father wouldn't allow it.

"You need to be putting more hours into your lordly duties, Chaol," his father said on one evening in which Chaol had attempted to train for five hours straight. "This is an impractical way to spend your time."

He was doing very well in his lessons, which was a little worrisome for the guards.

A lord was better than almost all of them. And he could never be part of their team.

 **Chapter Release Date: December 16, 2017**


	15. Chapter 15: A Confession is Made

**A/N: Hope you guys all have a wonderful Christmas (if you celebrate it, that is). I won't be posting a chapter of Show Me How To Fly that day, the way I did on Halloween, but there will be a new chapter of** _ **Chemistry**_ **, if you're interested.** Also, sorry for posting late. My computer was having difficulties and I couldn't get on to FFN.

 **Chapter Fifteen: A Confession is Made**

Dorian lay wide awake in his bed, just past midnight.

He'd been reading for a little bit, and he'd only put the book down when he realized he was jumping whenever he saw his own shadow, and realized it would be best not to give himself nightmares.

Now, he wasn't able get to sleep for the same reason—too much _unknown_ in that book, and suddenly too much unknown in his own life.

He tried to distract himself with other thoughts. Happier ones that didn't involve dripping water, falling against decaying flesh, blood pooling, an ax being raised—

 _That's enough of that,_ Dorian thought.

What to distract himself with?

Perhaps Chaol.

He realized belatedly that might not be the best thing to think about. His friend had been so distant lately, and he couldn't figure out why.

He thought it might have something to do with the whole guard thing…. Chaol had seemed so upset those months ago when he first brought it up and Dorian had turned the idea down. After that day was around when he'd started acting odd.

Dorian frowned, trying to come up with other things that it could be. He didn't like the idea that it could be his fault.

There was always those boys back in Silver Lake that Chaol often complained about…. It could quite possibly be them, too, rather than him.

Or maybe Chaol's father. The man wasn't exactly stellar when it came to being a parent.

He sighed. He'd talk to Chaol about in the morning. He wanted the boy to be alright, and the best way of ensuring that was seeing what he could do to help.

He missed having his best friend.

* * *

At breakfast, Dorian plopped down in his seat beside Chaol. His stomach was growling and there were dark bags under his eyes.

"You're a mess," Chaol comment offhand, not bothering to soften up his words at all.

"So are you. You're a wreck," Dorian snapped back.

Dorian, with his button-down shirt untucked from his breeches, his hair far from being tame, and the red spot on his cheek from where his head had rested on his book for most of last night, looked almost as bad as Chaol.

Chaol's hair was sticking up on all ends and his face was beet-red and covered in sweat. He looked like he'd just been out on a run and hadn't bothered to change afterwards.

Chaol shrugged. "I've got a reason."

Dorian huffed. "Well, so do I. I was up late reading, and then stopped for a bit. When I couldn't fall asleep, I went back to reading. I woke up at 6:30 _just because you're here_. So yeah, I'm tired. What's your excuse?"

"Went out running," he said, dismissing Dorian's question easily before heaping plate full of food as he confirmed Dorian's suspicions.

They ate in silence for a little while, before Dorian spoke up.

"Hey Chaol?" he asked.

"Yeah?" Chaol responded through a mouthful of food.

"I was just… You've been… I can't help but notice…"

"What?" Chaol looked at Dorian, seeming intrigued by Dorian's lack of words to use. "Just spit it out."

"You seem a little off lately. And I was thinking that maybe it was my fault," he said, staring down at his mashed potatoes.

Chaol frowned. "No, it's not your fault even a little bit! I didn't even realize I was acting differently."

Dorian cocked his head to one side. Chaol seemed like he was telling the truth. "You've just been… more distant."

"I guess that's probably true," he said honestly.

"What's been going on then?" Dorian asked urgently.

"I… I don't really want to tell you," Chaol said, looking quite guilty.

"Why not?" Dorian asked, hurt.

"Because. You've already expressed your idea on the topic."

"Alright, well, I'm sorry for however I reacted before." Silence fell between the two of them, Dorian willing Chaol to say something about what it was. Finally, when it became clear that Chaol was going to do no such thing, he burst out with, "Just tell me already!"

Chaol rolled his eyes, but then glanced around, as though worried that someone might overhear. "Okay, but you have to promise not to tell anyone!"

"I promise," Dorian said immediately.

"I've been training with some of the guards," Chaol said quietly.

Dorian frowned. "I don't see how that's a problem."

"It's not!" Chaol groaned. "It's just that I don't think my father would approve. He'd think it was because I want to be one of the guards."

Dorian raised an eyebrow. "And is it?"

Chaol shifted uncomfortably. "Well… yeah…."

Dorian paused. He hadn't realized how serious Chaol was about wanting to be a guard. Chaol had a nervous expression on his face, as though dreading Dorian's response, probably taking his silence as a bad sign.

"Are you any good?" Dorian asked after a long while.

Chaol smiled slowly. "Yeah."

"Good. I'm going to help you however I can. I didn't know that you… really wanted to do this. I kind of just figured it was a passing notion that would be gone from your head in a few short weeks."

Chaol looked at the prince, seeming quite a bit surprised by his reaction.

"And—I mean, if you want—I'll talk to the Captain of the Guard for you. See if he'll give you some private lessons?"

Chaol's brows rose up his forehead. "Dorian, you don't have too—"

"No, but I want to!" Dorian said. "You're my friend, and I want to help you!"

"Alright then," Chaol nodded. "I'd like that. Thank you so much!" He wrapped his arms around Dorian's shoulders.

The two of them stayed like that for a while.

* * *

Chaol walked into his father's office, taking a deep breath. It was time to tell his father.

He couldn't go on like this, keeping such a big secret, lying to his father on a daily basis. It wasn't the type of thing he _did_.

"Hello, son!" Lord Westfall said, looking up from his papers.

"Dad?" Chaol asked. He rarely spoke so informally around his father. "Can I talk to you about something?"

The two were thrown back to a time several months ago, when Chaol came in asking something similar.

He sighed heavily. "Right now? I've got a lot of work to do."

Chaol shrugged. "It'll be quick, I promise."

"Fine."

"I just wanted to come clean with you. All those late nights out, those afternoons I told you I was spending in the library with Dorian? I was actually…" he paused, taking a deep breath, "… training with the guards," he spit out the last part as quickly as he could.

Silence. Dead silence. Then…

"You've been _WHAT?_ " his father roared. "I told you _months ago_ that you shouldn't be thinking about things like that!"

"No, father! It's okay! I'm just getting better at self defense! That's a good thing, right?"

"Not when you've had these ideas about being one of… one of _those_ people!" Lord Westfall shouted.

"But it's not for that!" Chaol lied. "I don't want to be a guard anymore! I just want to be better able to protect myself."

"You and I both know that's a lie, young man. We're leaving this palace in two days, and by then I want you to have cut all ties with the guards and have had your lessons stopped!"

Chaol flinched. Perhaps this had not been his best idea.

"We're supposed to stay for another three weeks, though!" Chaol countered his father, unwilling to accept the fact that he'd just ruined what was supposed to be almost a month of happiness with Dorian.

"Not anymore! I can do most of this work back at the palace; I'm sure the king will understand!"

Chaol stormed out of the room.

Well, that had gone _spectacularly_ well.

 **Chapter Release Date: December 24, 2017**


	16. Chapter 16: A Heated Conversation

**A/N: Wow. This is the second to last day of 2017. That's crazy. Tomorrow it'll be 2018! Can you guys believe that? Also, sorry for the late post. I've been having computer problems lately, but hopefully that's over now.**

 **Warning: *spoiler alert* Around the middle of the chapter, the king slaps Dorian.**

 **Chapter Sixteen: A Heated Conversation**

Late the following morning, Dorian was called to the throne room.

He had just been leaving breakfast when a page boy dashed up to him. "Your Highness! Your Highness! His Majesty requests Your Highness in the throne room immediately!"

Dorian nodded slightly as dread filled his stomach. He'd talked to the Captain of the Guard last night about Chaol, and the man had said he'd think about it. Dorian was worried that word could have gotten around to the king about this encounter, and he knew that wouldn't be a pleasant ordeal.

 _Don't think about that,_ Dorian encouraged himself. _That's probably not it at all. It's gotta be that incident in the court meeting last week…. Yeah, that's probably it. He just wants to talk it over again._

As the party walked through the hallways, Lian glanced down at Dorian. "Whatever happens, it'll be fine in the long run," he said. In his early thirties, he'd been one of Dorian's guards for as long as Dorian could remember, and he knew how nervous Dorian got when he was called to the throne room by his father.

Dorian nodded before striding off down the hall, trying to seem as confident as he could.

When the doors to the throne room were flung open, he strode inside with his head held high and no expression on his face.

"Ah, Dorian," the king said in a cool voice. "I'm glad you've shown up so quickly."

Dorian bowed his head slightly. "You're welcome, father. What is it you wished to discuss with me?"

His father stood, moving towards Dorian. He waved a hand at Dorian's guards. "You may leave us."

Lian glanced at the others, seeming a little unsure.

"Just wait outside, please," Dorian quietly to his guards. Lian nodded towards the others and then they strode out.

The King of Adarlan looked down upon his son. "You had _no right_ to meddle in the lives of the Westfalls!" He yelled.

So it _was_ the Captain of the Guard thing.

Dorian grimaced a little. "I'm sorry," he responded. He knew that any back talking would land him in hotter water, so he might as well just kiss ass and try to soften the blow.

"Sorry won't cut it! You knew perfectly well that Lord Westfall did not want his son involved in these things!"

"I didn't! I swear!" Dorian realized he was probably going to get Chaol in trouble too.

"I doubt it. You can't just do things like that, Dorian. It is awful, and you're only encouraging Chaol's ideas about becoming a guard. I personally don't care what the boy does, but I can't have his father upset with me!"

"Well, I care about Chaol's feelings!" Dorian said firmly. He surprised himself by his boldness. "I want him to be happy, and if this is what does it, then that's what I'm going to help him do. And there's nothing you can do to stop me!"

"Oh, yes there is," the king said, slowly advancing towards Dorian. "You, whether you're my son or not, are also my subject. I am higher ranking than both you and your wretched friend. I can do whatever I want, and make you do whatever I want."

Dorian was furious. "Don't call Chaol things like that! He's the only person in this damned world I care about, and he is most certainly not 'wretched!'"

"He is whatever I say he is! And I'd suggest you stop talking right now, because I don't like backtalk."

Dorian grimaced. He knew he was getting close to an unspoken line, but he didn't care. "I hate you," he snarled.

 _Slap!_

Dorian fell back against the floor, his head almost slamming into the tiles on the floor. Was it not for his arms which wrapped themselves around his head without his command, he probably would have split his skull wide open.

"Don't say things like that to me," his father said in a dangerously soft voice. "You are not to be friends with Chaol anymore, nor are you to say anything so disrespectful to your elders and higher ranking officials. Now _get out of my sight_."

Dorian, whimpering, dashed away, tears in his eyes.

He burst from the throne room crying.

"Sir? Is everything alright?" Lian asked, looking quite concerned.

Dorian shook his head, picking up his pace.

He wasn't quite sure where he was going; it was as if his legs had a mind of their own. All he knew was that he needed some comfort.

Before long, he was in a wing that felt vaguely familiar. He'd been there a few times, but not many.

He flung open the door to Chaol's room, barking a quick, "Stay outside," to his guards before dashing over to Chaol's bed, where his friend was currently laying, reading by candlelight.

"Dorian!" Chaol said, looking surprised. "What are you doing here at this hour?"

Tears leaked down his face. "I—I—"

"Oh, it's alright. Whatever it is, it'll be alright," Chaol whispered into Dorian's ear as he walked over to Dorian and gently held him. "You're gonna be fine."

Dorian gave a great sniff. "But I'm not!"

"Tell me what happened," Chaol said quietly.

And Dorian did. He told Chaol everything that happened in that room, why it happened, every last detail.

When he was done, Chaol sighed slightly. "Not to be friends, are we?"

Dorian tearfully nodded.

"Oh, honey, don't worry about that," Chaol said, seeing the look Dorian was giving him. "We just have to be more careful now, is all."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive. But, er, on the note of fathers giving rash orders, apparently I'm leaving the day after tomorrow."

"What? Why?"

"I _may_ have told my father about training with the guards. And he flipped out. He's really upset. He doesn't want me training with them anymore. I know he'll never allow me to be anything other than a petty lord. And I was kind of thinking… maybe I could abdicate my title. That way, he doesn't really have any reason to not let me, and even if he doesn't, when I'm eighteen, I can do whatever I want!"

Dorian raised an eyebrow at Chaol. "Chaol… that's a dangerous idea. What if things don't work out? You'll have nothing to fall back on!"

Chaol wrinkled his forehead. "I thought you said you would support me in all of this."

Dorian sighed. "I suppose you're right. But honestly Chaol, I don't think you should abdicate until you're absolutely sure this is what you want. Because otherwise, you're going to seriously screw yourself over."

Chaol nodded. "Yeah, I know."

They stayed silent for a moment, before Chaol remembered something. "Dorian, you did promise me that you'd tell your mother if it happened again."

"If what happened again? Oh, right! Now I remember. Well, she's so busy with Hollin…"

"I don't care! She needs to know! Even if she can't do anything about it, she deserves to know! Spanking is one thing, but slapping? Hitting? That's different!"

"Alright, I will!" Dorian said, but he honestly didn't plan on doing it. But if it eased Chaol's conscience if he thought Dorian was going to….

"Thank you," Chaol said.

Dorian got up. "I should probably be going now, then."

Choal nodded. "Yeah. I suppose so."

 **Chapter Release Date: December 31, 2017**


	17. Chapter 17: A Magical Discovery

**A/N: Welcome to 2018, people! It's a new year! Anyone got any New Year's Resolutions? Mine are sort of what they always are… try hard in school, get all A's on my end-of-the-year exams, read more, and be more considerate to others. Nothing exciting.**

 **Also, this is sort of just a filler chapter, so it's a little short. Sorry about that. However, the last scene is kind of important. I'll tell you more in the end author's note so that I don't spoil anything. =)**

 **Chapter Seventeen: A Magical Discovery**

Chaol left.

The seconds afterwards felt like they were moving in slow motion. Each second felt like an eternity.

Dorian could stand outside, and watch it rain, and could see each raindrop hit the ground. It was actually quite beautiful.

A single drop could shine brighter than a thousand stars, but not brighter than Chaol, Dorian noticed.

When the light would hit it just right, it would make a spectacular gleam of color and light around it as it sped towards the ground, where it would shatter like glass into millions of tinier droplets.

And then those droplets would hurtle towards the sky once more, as small disk forming around the impact crater on the wet ground, before gravity pulled them all back to the earth.

And then that drop would sink into the ground, where it would remain until it either evaporated, or was stepped in and disturbed.

When the splash of the raindrop came up from ground, Dorian would watch it rise slowly, as though the world had no care for what would happen next, and each instant could drag on forever.

And as if fell, those instants lasted doubly as long, as though each one was determined to last longer than the last.

That whole process was amazing. But Dorian would rather have Chaol there by his side than watch that experience unfold a million times.

These seconds seemed to take forever, yes, but minutes were worse.

So many more thousands of things could happen each minute.

A dog could run around the castle grounds, barking and yipping, chasing a cat. The cat could run up a tree to escape, but the dog would stay at the base, barking and barking until the cat nearly died of fright.

A rider could saddle up their horse, take the mount from the stables, and be kicked in the stomach and left for dead in the muddy streets.

A civilian could die at the hands of his father, having been accused of using magic. Not that anyone could even _attempt_ to do so these days.

The minutes lasted years.

Hours, on the other hand, seemed hazy, and infinite. They never ended, but they seemed to be like dreams. Dorian wasn't sure why, but unlike the minutes and the seconds, they were clouded. After enough time had passed, he barely remembered what had happened in those quiet minutes, seconds. They just faded away into the darkness.

On, and on, and on they would drag. Countless tasks were carried out. Countless drops of rain could fall, countless cats could be chased up trees, countless riders could be hurt by their horses, countless innocent people could die.

When you took a look at the hours, things began to seem ugly, and no longer special. The seconds and minutes seemed meaningless, as the hours dragged forward so many new horrors.

An assassin could make their first kill.

A government official could be interrogated.

A criminal trial could be carried out, and either won or lost.

Everything seemed bland.

The days, perhaps, were the hardest.

They lasted so much longer than anything else that Dorian could think of.

They didn't ever feel worth living through.

When the days were at his mercy, Dorian could spend his time thinking up all the awful things that could happen.

The things that happened each second, minute, and hour were repeated a hundred times over by the end of the day. And it made those things seem distasteful and rude. Like they were trying to hard to seem like a part of everything, when really they were just repetitions, happening so many times that it seemed as though Dorian was reliving the same moment in time again, and again, and again.

Dorian hated living during the day. Everything lasted for countless amounts of time, and he felt like it was all pointless. Useless. Repetitive. And inconsequential.

Chaol wasn't there anymore to make the days interesting. Instead there was his father, making him go to his lessons.

Books weren't there anymore to entertain him. Instead of heading off to the library every morning, he was forced to march like a soldier to the council room, where he was reminded all too much of the fact that Chaol was gone again. That was where they'd first met. Where they'd spent so many hours together, cracking jokes and keeping each other company.

Going outside was completely off the table. If he had any free time at all, he was expected to help out with the young Prince Hollin, look through paperwork, or attend royal balls and parties. It was excruciating.

The weeks weren't as bad as the days.

Dorian found that if he focused on making it through each passing day, the weeks flew by.

Inside each week, there was a messy haze of ugly, torcherous tasks that could simply be overlooked by the overarching theme—life was miserable.

Months dragged by. Each day was a single step, taking a hundred years to happen, but the months seemed somehow a little shorter. They were boring and bland, grey and white, but somehow, tolerable.

And then there was the year as a whole. The end of Dorian's twelfth year and the start of his thirteenth were some of his worst days; it was the longest he'd gone without seeing Chaol.

He had more responsibilities and expectations than ever, and yet he wanted so many less than he'd ever felt prepared for in the past.

* * *

When Chaol finally did visit, Dorian wasn't jolted out of his living hell the way he usually was.

Instead, it felt that this time it had simply been too long. Dorian had grown accustomed to the constant sadness and numbness that became his days.

Of course, he was happy to see Chaol; it just didn't make him feel the way he usually did—happy. Instead, he was simply glad for something to distract him, at least for a moment, from that dull pain pounding away at his scull.

For the first time in what was probably months—Dorian didn't really care to check—he went to the library. With Chaol. The two were much quieter than usual. They did not chatter away as they had before; instead, they sat in silence and stared at their books.

The one time that either of them spoke was at almost noon, when Chaol remembered something.

"Dorian?"

"Yeah?" Dorian asked, looking up from his book. In truth, he really would have rather kept reading—Josh and Lavender had just started talking to each other again!—but Chaol had that look he got—the one where his eyes crinkled, his brow furrowed, and he frowned slightly—that said he was nervous about something.

"I… well, I've decided that I'm going to make this final. The guard thing."

Dorian raised his eyebrows. "Chaol…" he trailed off. "I'm not so sure that's a good idea."

"Why not? Brullo, the weapons master, said himself that he thinks I'm better than the Captain of the Royal Guard was at my age! Besides, I'd rather fail here and live a life as a beggar on the streets than sit in a courtroom for the rest of my time."

Dorian sighed slightly. So would he, but he also knew how many people were depending on him. And, unlike Chaol, he could not afford to let his devil of a little brother take the throne instead.

Dorian nodded a little. "I suppose you could be right. And, I guess, if you _do_ fail, in a few years I'll take the throne, and I'll make you my royal advisor. You won't end up on the streets."

"You don't have to do that," Chaol said, obviously shocked.

Shrugging, Dorian simply responded, "Yes, I do. You're my best friend, and I'm afraid that you're smarter than all the other geezers I could choose from."

At this, Chaol laughed.

And with that, the topic was left behind, though Dorian remained with a slight sense of dread. He was worried about what would happen to Chaol, despite what he promised.

He decided to talk to the Captain of the Royal guard that night and see what he thought about taking Chaol in as his apprentice.

* * *

Hours later, Chaol had exited to go speak with some of Dorian's off-duty guards, and Dorian had been left all alone in the library.

Everything was so unfair, he thought. Chaol and he weren't allowed to be friends anymore, thanks to what had happened last time, so now they had to sneak around.

Their guards had silently agreed to not tell anyone, so they were safe with them around, but places like the library they had to be careful.

They'd sit in the back of the library where no one ever went.

They'd hide in a stable in the back of the barn where no horses were kept.

They'd go and play outside near dusk or dawn when no one was crazy enough to go out—except, of course, for them.

It was so frustrating! Why did their parents have to be like that?

And so few letters over the last year….

Dorian had talked less, perhaps, than he ever had in previous years, seeing as there was nothing to be excited about. No visits, no letters, no fun.

And what if Lord Westfall somehow managed to convince Chaol not to train as a guard?

Dorian felt hot tears threatening to burst from his eyes.

He might not get to see Chaol for _another year_.

And what if then, after that, he and Chaol never spoke again?

What about—

He felt a coldness around him that interrupted his frantic thoughts.

He glanced around himself, trying to discover the source of this uncomfortable feeling, when he saw frost coating the ground.

He froze. This should not be happening. It wasn't right. Why would there be frost inside on a day like this? Sure, it was closing in on winter, but it today had been oddly warm! It was almost like—

 _Magic_.

Dorian felt sick.

This was all wrong. Magic was gone. It _couldn't_ be magic. Could it?

And what was worse, he had the uncanny feeling that it wasn't just coming from some random place or person.

No, most definitely not. On the contrary—he was almost certain it was coming from him.

 **Chapter Release Date: January 6, 2018**

 **A/N: So, I know that in the books Dorian doesn't discover his magic until way later than this, but I figured that since this is a fic, I can do what I want. =) In short, I know it didn't happen when he was 13, but most other things in this will be close to cannon.**


	18. Chapter 18: Research to Be Done

**A/N: I'm so sorry about posting late** _ **again.**_ **This is like the sixth time this story, and I'm only on chapter eighteen. (I don't actually know how many times it's been.)**

 **Chapter Eighteen: Research to Be Done**

The following morning, Dorian walked down to the training room.

What had happened the previous evening had scared him, but he was trying to pretend as though it hadn't happened. The less notably different he seemed, the better. It would mean fewer questions, fewer suspects. Safer overall.

He hadn't told anyone.

It wasn't that he hadn't had the chance; he was just afraid of what might happen if the wrong person found out.

Everything else in his life could be forgiven, forgotten, but this? He could be put to death if his father discovered his little secret.

But right now, the prince was focused on other things.

Yes, if Chaol was going to become a guard, or at least start training as one, he was going to need all the help he could get.

So now, for the second time in a year and a half, Dorian was going to talk to the Captain of the Guard.

He strode into the training room as though he owned the place. Which, incidentally, he practically did. Or at least, his father did.

The thirteen-year-old boy marched right up to the captain, who had been getting a drink of water, and cleared his throat loudly.

"Sir? I wish to speak with you," Dorian said in his most commanding voice. He figured it would go better if he seemed more like a royal young man requesting a service than a child, begging and pleading to help his only friend.

"Really, Your Highness? Now is not… er… the _best_ time. Could it wait? I have no intention of being rude or anything, it's just that—"

"No, no," Dorian shook his head. "It'll only take a minute or two. I'm sure you can give me your attention for that long?"

The captain shifted slightly. "Well… I guess," he sighed slightly, seeming a little annoyed.

"I'd like to discuss Lord Chaol Westfall. I asked you about him around a year ago, did I not?"

The man nodded.

"Well, you said you'd think about it, and I believe you've had enough time. Will you or will you not take him in as your apprentice?"

"Well, I haven't seen him train in a while, sir," the Captain of the Guard said, glancing around.

Dorian understood that meant he hadn't really thought about it at all.

"Talk to Brullo then. The man can probably advise you well, as can many of the guards on my shift. I expect you to come to me with your verdict by later tonight, and I do hope you will take him. Even if not as your apprentice and simply a trainee."

"Actually," the captain said with a grimace, "Brullo has already spoken to _me_ about this matter."

"Then you should have all the information you need to understand that Chaol deserves to be on your guard at some point in the near future, of course with some form of trial or training first that you oversee."

The Captain of the Guard gave a curt nod. "Will that be all, Your Majesty?"

"Yes, that will be all," Dorian said before striding out of the room.

As he exited, he took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down.

If Chaol wasn't accepted by the Captain of the Guard, then that was it for Chaol. Chaol wouldn't, most likely, return to the palace for a great amount of time ever again, meaning that there was little chance of being accepted at all.

* * *

After his discussion with the Captain of the Guard, Dorian decided to go to the library.

It would be easier to distract himself from his worries about Chaol there.

Plus, it would give him a chance to look through books on magic. If there was anywhere that would have anything about magic, it would be the palace's library.

His father was lazy about clearing out the library of banned books, and besides—it gave the king a leg up on others, to have knowledge they did not.

Dorian wanted to learn what he could do, and the least conspicuous way of doing so would be to get the information from his own library where he spent so many of his hours.

He was mostly silent on the way there, contemplating what sorts of things he'd learn.

His father had been anti-magic for as long as he could remember, so he'd never learned much about it.

He did, on the other hand, know a little about the various types and how it was passed down. Really only common knowledge, though.

From what he'd seen the previous day, his probably had something to do with water, ice, air, or really anything of the sort.

For a brief moment, Dorian wondered if he had raw magic. That might be kind of cool.

 _No,_ Dorian thought. _I don't even know if I have magic for sure yet. I'm just going to go and see what I can find out; it's highly doubtful what happened yesterday was anything of significance at all._

He was jerked out of his deep thoughts by Jeydon.

"So, what do you like to read?"

Dorian frowned slightly. "Most things," he responded simply.

Jeydon nodded. "Okay. What's your favorite book?"

"Why are you so interested?" Dorian shot him a look.

Jeydon seemed a little taken aback. "I'm sorry. I was just curious. I've been your guard for two years, and all I know is from what gossip I hear from the other guards and my bo—my best friend."

Dorian frowned at the way Jeydon cut himself off, but didn't ask. "Alright. Well, I suppose probably _Anything_ by Lady Fois of Terrisan would have to claim the spot of my current favorite book."

"Really?" Jeydon looked mildly surprised. "I never took you for the romance type. Or the kind of person willing to read anything over fifty years old."

Dorian merely shrugged. "I read what I like, and I tend not to look too hard at labels before I pick up a book. I find that gives me preconceived notion about what the book will be like, and that can often cloud the way I view it. So I simply browse the shelves for a random book and start reading."

"Wise words for a boy of your age," Jeydon said, smiling.

"And what sorts of books do you like, Jeydon?" Dorian asked in return.

"Action and adventure," responded Jamie before Jeydon could even open his mouth. "I don't think such fanciful worlds are good for someone his age, but those are what he enjoys."

Jeydon glanced over his shoulder at her. "Just because you've got no imagination, nor lust for another life, doesn't mean the rest of us should be the same. And I can speak for myself, thank you very much."

"Take your own advice sometime," murmured Jamie. "And I know you can speak for yourself. In case you haven't noticed, you _never shut up_."

Jeydon huffed.

"Don't start again, you two!" Jeremy groaned. Then he turned to Dorian, saying, "They'll go at it all day if you let them. They have very different ideas about the way one should approach the world. He thinks things should be more fluid, artful, and she thinks we should go about life in a more calculating and mathematical way. They have arguments having to do with philosophical and psychological ideas almost every other day, and neither can ever really disprove what the other has to say, but they're never willing to agree with each other in any manner." He rolled his eyes slightly, as though to say, "Kids!"

Dorian, pondering this slightly, had to agree more with Jeydon than with Jamie, but he supposed there was probably some merit to Jamie's reasoning on how to live best.

Jeydon let out a breath. "I think that neither of us are completely set in any of those ideas. We just have different ideas of which there should be more of, should one want to lead a happy and successful life."

"Perhaps equal amounts of each?" Dorian suggested.

Jeydon and Jamie both grunted, as though not wanting to admit that this could be the answer to their on going debate.

"Or perhaps we could all go about life in the way that we see fit," Jeremy said quietly.

Jeydon shrugged. "Not me trying to tell people how to live their lives," he said.

"When have I ever tried to tell you how to live your life?" Jamie asked, looking rather annoyed.

"Oh, let's see," Jeydon said sardonically. "I can't actually think of any time at all!" Anger was laced throughout the sarcasm drenching his voice in a menacing tone. "Wait, never mind! Basically every damn time that who I—you know what, let's not talk about this right now," he said, his enthusiasm dying a bit.

"Jeydon, that was years ago!" Jamie groaned. "And only once or twice!"

"Well… there were other things too!" Jeydon said indignantly.

"Stop!" Dorian moaned. "Please!"

Jamie and Jeydon looked guiltily at their feet.

"So you have different opinions! Big deal! Just calm the heck down and start acting like you're older than me, not the other way around!"

The other four guards surrounding Dorian looked mildly amused at the situation; even Jeremy was smiling slightly.

"Sorry Dorian," Jeydon muttered.

"Sorry, _Your Highness_ ," Jamie said, putting emphasis on the last two words, her gaze falling on Jeydon.

"What?" Jeydon asked. "He's asked us to call him that!"

"Stop arguing," Dorian sighed, very fed up with the nonsense. "I don't care what you call me, as long as it isn't insulting. I'd prefer, as Jeydon said, to be referred to by first name only, but around most company, that can't hold. If you wish to call me by more formal titles, then by all means—go ahead. It's what you've been doing my whole life."

By that point, they had reached the library.

Dorian, not wanting to put up with his guards bullshit any longer than he had to, dashed off in the direction that he usually did.

When he was sure they were no longer with him, he made a detour towards the informational section, which was bordered by old myths. He knew that if he were to find anything, this was where it would be.

He spent the next few hours reading up on what little he could find, which wasn't much at all. But, he decided, it was better than nothing, and he was grateful for all that he learned.

There were only a few tips on how to control magic—it was emotion triggered, was what most of his sources agreed upon. The only other tricks he could find didn't make much sense, but he made a mental note of them just in case they, at some point, became less gibberish and made more sense.

He left the library that afternoon feeling much better than when he had entered, but still left with a large problem:

He, Dorian Havilliard, the Crown Prince of Adarlan, the son of the man most against magic it seemed, had some form of power that could land him in extreme trouble.

 **Chapter Release Date: January 14, 2018**


	19. Chapter 19: A Lesson in Abdication

**A/N: So sorry for posting late** _ **again**_ **. I just get so busy, and then posting slips my mind. I need to get better at remembering….**

 **Chapter Nineteen: A Lesson in Abdication**

Chaol was seated firmly on the bench watching the guards practice. He felt like he did that a lot these days.

He'd heard that Dorian had talked to the Captain of the Guard, so he was hoping to get a chance to ask the man about everything. Unfortunately, the captain was nowhere to be found.

Suddenly, the door burst open and the Captain of the Royal Guard strode in, an air of prestige about him.

Chaol leapt to his feet, dashing over to him. "Sir! Sir, I was wondering about what you've decided."

The captain grunted. "Why do you children always ambush me when I'm about to start conditioning my guards?"

Chaol puffed out his chest, standing a little straighter. "I apologize, sir. Also, I'm almost an adult."

"Does it matter?" the captain asked. "But, if you must know, I think I will take you as my apprentice. I've asked the other guards about it, along with Brullo, and they all say that you live up to the expectations of a fully fledged guard. I will, of course, want to put you through some training of my own before accepting you into our ranks, but I've seen you fight before, and you can handle yourself well."

Chaol was at a loss for words. "Sir… I don't know what to say."

"Perhaps start with a nice 'thank you' and finish with 'I'll get the hell out of here now,'" the captain said.

"Right. Of course, sir. Thank you so much! You have no idea how much this means to me!"

"You're right," he responded. "I don't, and I also don't particularly care. I don't recruit young men—or women—based on how much it _means to them_. Instead, I go by their morals and skill. We will see, over the course of the next few weeks, whether or not you match my standards the way the other guards all say you do. Now please: I have men to work. They're not getting stronger on their own, nor are they getting closer to being adequate guards."

Chaol nodded quickly before dashing out of the training room, closing the door behind him.

He took a deep breath, leaning against the large plain of wood behind him.

He'd have to tell his father now, and he knew that.

This was what he had dreamed about for the last nine years of his life. This was what he wanted. Right?

He was starting to second guess himself.

Up until now, everything had seemed so clear to him. This was what he was meant to be: a guard. He was supposed to help people. He wasn't destined to be a lord, some royal official.

But it wasn't something he could walk back.

He'd tell his father, and his father wouldn't let him do it and still be a lord.

His only way of becoming a guard, or even starting to train as one, was to abdicate his title and inheritance, disowning himself.

That was a big step, and he knew his father wouldn't let him reclaim his title.

The whole thing would cause a lot of heat for Chaol's father to deal with, and he knew his father wouldn't be eager to forgive him.

He knew in his heart he'd become a guard if it was really what he wanted, but he also understood that should anything happen, he would not have anything to fall back on. He was only 16, and this was a dangerous move.

He took a slow and steady breath.

He could do this.

Tonight, he would tell his father.

* * *

Chaol sat down in his father's office for the third and final time to discuss his future as a guard.

"Chaol," his father said, smiling warmly. "What brings you here tonight? As I recall, the past two times you've visited my office in Rifthold it was to ask about your future," his face darkened. "That's not what it is this time though, is it?"

Chaol shifted slightly. "Actually, it is."

The Lord of Aneille pursed his lips. "Chaol, my son, as I have said before: You are destined to become a lord, just as I was. You are not meant to become some petty guard."

Chaol turned his head away from his father. "Sir, I've talked to the Captain of the Guard. I've trained with some of the guards. The captain is going to take me in as his apprentice. And Brullo—the Weapons Master—thinks that I possess more skill than the current captain did when he first began. I'm going to do this. No matter what you think."

"Allow me to correct you one one point, my son," Lord Westfall said, glaring towards Chaol. "It _does_ matter what I think. See, I'm not going to allow you to do this. I will not let you so long as you belong to my house hold."

Chaol stood up. "Well, maybe I won't be part of your household any more!" He said it a little louder than he meant just as his mother walked in.

"What are you boys arguing about?" Lady Westfall asked, looking annoyed.

"We weren't arguing, Mother," Chaol murmured.

"Really? Because it certainly sounded like it."

Lord Westfall sighed. "He wishes to become a _guard_." He said the word as though it contained a deadly venom. As though it were something no one should utter. "Apparently, the Captain of the Guard has been convinced to take our son in as his apprentice."

Lady Westfall shrugged. "Well, if that is what our son wants, so be it. Terrin can take his place."

Lord Westfall looked shocked. "Absolutely not! Chaol will stay a part of our house and he will stay our heir!"

"He can stay part of our house and not have to be our heir. His happiness is what is important," Lady Westfall responded, ever the calmest of the three.

"No, it's not! The happiness of the people is what matters. The happiness of the king is what matters."

"And I'm sure that the people will be perfectly happy with Terrin as the heir and Chaol merely as a member of our family with no real significance politics wise. The king, I assume, will be glad to have Chaol and Terrin both serving him in different ways. Our son should be happy. And besides—has Terrin ever displayed disinterest in becoming a lord? No, he has not. In fact, I have heard him say that he would rather take Chaol's place than fade away into nothingness. He's rather interested in politics."

"Well… well…" his father spluttered.

"Listen, I've got everything figured out!" Chaol said. "Brullo says I can stay in the barracks for free, and Dorian's willing to appoint me to some position on the court when he's king if things go south, which they won't. It'll be fine!"

Lord Westfall snarled. "It most definitely will be. But I won't pay for any of your lessons or tutoring."

Chaol paused. He hadn't thought of that. "Well, I've gotten all of my lessons so far for free," he responded.

"And now? Now that you're the captain's apprentice?"

"I…" Chaol shifted uncomfortably. "I don't know."

"You better think, boy! Is this what you really want to do?" he asked.

Chaol barely managed to nod.

"Then so be it," his father whispered. "You're no longer welcome at home. Don't bother trying to make contact with any of us. We're leaving tomorrow. We'll be around, but don't expect us to be like family, because we're not. I'll fill out the paperwork tonight."

Chaol gasped.

"No!" yelped Lady Westfall. "No, don't do that to him!" she begged her husband.

Lord Westfall was already out the door though.

She shook her head and turned towards Chaol.

Tears filled his eyes. He hadn't expected that to hurt so much. He didn't even like his father. But now….

Lady Westfall wrapped her arms around Chaol. "I promise I'll write to you. Every week, if I can. And I expect you'll be busy, so you don't have to write that much, but I want to hear from you every month if you can manage. Maybe more. And Terrin will probably want to hear from you as well. And if you need any help paying for anything, I'll send some money. And I'll—"

"Mother," Chaol cut her off. "It'll be fine. I promise that I'll write."

She nodded. "And accept money when you need it?"

"Of course," he agreed. "But don't worry!" he added quickly. "I'll get a job in town, polishing shoes or something. I'll make a little money of my own. Everything'll turn out fine."

She gave a sniff. "Oh, my baby boy. You've grown into such a handsome young man. You're going to do great things. I just know it!"

That was one of the last times Chaol ever saw his mother in person again.

* * *

The following morning, just as was promised, Lord Westfall packed up what was left of his family, had Chaol sign a few papers, and left.

It was one of the sadder moments of Chaol's life, challenged only by the loss of Dorian back when he'd first moved away.

This whole ordeal was coupled with a good thing, however: Chaol had his first lesson with the Captain of the Guard.

And it went really well.

 **Chapter Release Date: January 21, 2018**

 **A/N: I apologize for the sexism/cisexism displayed by the captain in the first scene. It's sort of a medieval kind of time, so he only thinks of women when he remembers Jamie, and it's not like he would know what the word "non-binary" meant in relation to gender. So, sorry about that, but I feel as though that's more how he would respond than anyone my age in these times.**


	20. Chapter 20: Alone

**A/N: Hey there! This is going to be a bit of a short one, but don't worry—there's plenty more coming soon! It's also a little sad, just so you know. Also, I'm getting kind of busy with school. We're past the half-way mark, so that means that I have to start preparing for all of the end-of-year exams and all. Just thought I should warn you; it might cause me to start posting late...er.**

 **Chapter Twenty: Alone**

It had been weeks since Chaol left his title and life as a lord behind.

Dorian was alone.

Dorian had assumed that, if Chaol did end up staying at the palace full time (which he had), the two of them would be close again.

He'd been completely wrong.

Chaol had thrown himself into his practice with the guards, which Dorian supposed was probably not that unusual—the boy had just lost his entire family in some sense, after all—but the two of them had hardly spent any time together _at all_.

All Chaol had done was train in the month that had passed.

Actually, that wasn't entirely true.

 _Apparently_ , the whole "cast aside lord, now becoming a guard instead" was a major draw to the ladies in the castle.

Chaol, who had never even been asked out before two months ago, now had a "serious" girlfriend. So, when he wasn't training, he was sucking face with some blonde. Dorian found it mildly disgusting, as could be expected of a thirteen-year-old who didn't like the thought that his best friend now had someone he preferred spending time with.

Dorian absolutely _despised_ Lithaen. She was full of herself, and Dorian got the feeling the only reason she was dating Chaol was because it made her look good with her friends.

Chaol, on the other hand, was very taken with the young woman, and showed no signs of wishing to part with her any time in the near future.

It was rather infuriating, especially since Dorian was actually making an effort to be nice to Chaol. They'd of course had hard times, and Chaol was having difficulties, but Dorian would have thought that would be the main reason for Chaol and him to be friends again.

Had it not been Dorian who had helped Chaol get to this place? Had it not been Dorian who had convinced his father to allow Chaol to stay in the palace, free of charge? Had it not been Dorian who stuck by Chaol throughout everything?

Anger filled Dorian. Why did Chaol keep doing this to him? It happened again, and again: Chaol left Dorian. Whether it was because of his parents, or those stupid boys in Silver Lake, or _girls_.

And why did he, Dorian, keep running right on back?

Dorian didn't have an answer to either of those questions. He decided that this time, he wouldn't let Chaol weidle himself back into his life.

Only, he also knew that if Chaol did come back, he probably wouldn't do much to stop him.

But through all of this, Dorian remained upset and lonely. So he tried to distract himself with various things. Including magic.

Chaol had been off spending his time training, and so had Dorian.

He'd spent hours in the library, all by himself, doing research. Then, late at night, he'd rise, sneak down to the gardens and do what he could with his magic. He knew that if he could control it, he'd be less likely to be in danger of having a random outburst.

It was odd, doing it without Chaol. Sure, he'd never intended to tell Chaol, but it just somehow felt wrong, not having Chaol by his side during all of it.

But anyway, he'd made little to know progress. All he'd been able to do in his countless night time excursions was freeze the entire lawn before racing inside, fearing being discovered.

It was anxiety inducing, doing it all alone.

 _All alone._

Why wasn't Chaol there anymore?

Dorian let out a breath, rubbing his eyes.

At the moment, he was trying to distract himself from Chaol by reading, but evidently, that wasn't working well for him.

 _Joshua turned to Rosa. "Are you sure?" he asked, skepticism in his voice._

" _Of course!" Rosa cried. "I've been sure of this since the moment we met," she said, her voice catching. She took a step closer to him. "I love you," she whispered._

 _Josh turned bright red. He hadn't been expecting that._

Dorian reread those three paragraphs over and over again, but despite how much he wanted to forget Chaol, that's where his mind kept going. He still didn't know what was happening on that page of the book….

 _Forget it_ , he grimaced to himself. _It's no use._

He slammed the book shut and threw it against the wall. It had been a gift from Chaol, anyway.

 _No more of those,_ he thought grimly. He was probably never going to be close to Chaol ever again.

He glanced around his room. Almost all of the drawings, the posters, the decorations, had come from Chaol. His only friend.

Scratch that. His only _ex_ -friend.

He paused as something quite suddenly dawned on him.

He had no friends anymore. He was completely, and utterly _alone_.

His body shook with this realization as hot tears threatened to spill from his eyes. Chaol was gone. Left. And now he had no one.

 **Chapter Release Date: January 28, 2018**

 **A/N: Sorry for the late post. I swear I'll get the chapter out on time next weekend!**


	21. Chapter 21: A Happy Couple

**Chapter Twenty-One: A Happy Couple**

Chaol smiled to himself as he trained, but the small smirk was quickly wiped off his face as he got hit, and remembered he should be focusing.

He was rarely able to even touch the 22-year-old woman who spent so much of her time training him.

Jamie was a miracle. He'd be half interested in dating her, except for the fact that he was with Lithaen. And besides—he had the feeling that Jamie would just tell him he was too young and naïve for her.

This split second of divided focus cost him the win: Jamie tripped him and held her arm against his throat.

"Pathetic," she spat. "I've been training you for how long now?"

"About two years," he mumbled, groaning as she dug her knee into his stomach.

"Right. And how many times have you beat me sparing?"

"Zero," he said, not meeting her gaze.

"Up," she commanded as she climbed off of him and getting to her feet.

He did as instructed, rubbing his rib cage as he did so.

"Keep yourself focused on what you're doing, Westfall. The moment you stray, your opponent will take that opportunity to"—she kicked him in the hip—"kill you."

He grunted as he slammed into the mat once more. "What was that for?" Chaol yelped.

"We're not over till I say we're over. Did I say the fight was done?"

He moaned, flopping back against the mat. This was his dream, he reminded himself. "No. Are we over now?"

"Yes, we're over now. Go get a drink of water."

He paused, knowing what she was going to do next.

She smirked. "Or not."

"What are we doing after I get a drink?" he asked cautiously.

"Well, at least you've learned something. Go run."

"How far?" was all he asked. He'd learned by now not to argue.

"Until I say to stop. I'll run with you, if it makes you feel any better."

He nodded.

Jamie got up from where she'd been sitting, and the two of them walked out of the main training room to the cool, crisp fields.

The snow had melted by now, but it was still very cold throughout the day.

The two began to jog in silence.

Neither said anything for most of it, but that was how it always was.

Brullo helped out with Chaol's training, and so did the Captain of the Royal guard, but Jamie remained his main instructor, and he had to admit—he was pretty sure she was better than both of the men combined.

He honestly didn't mind her training tactics. That was, until she started making him do her sadistic conditioning routines. But those were best left undiscussed.

The two of them ran and ran, Chaol growing tired before long.

He knew she spent time working out without him, and she was always better at everything. It was annoying, really. He wasn't sure how she did it.

Her pace remained steady. He did his best to keep up with her, but he was starting to fall behind. His breath was coming in at an uneven pace and he felt like he might fall over at some point in the near future. Despite the fact he'd had no water directly before they started, there was a sharp pain in his side.

"Tired?" Jamie smirked. It was the first thing either of them had said in quite a while.

Chaol gritted his teeth. "No," he said defiantly.

Jamie chuckled lightly.

As they kept running, Chaol's mind strayed from the pain.

He was so much happier doing all of this, working towards everything he wanted, then being forced to be what his father had wanted.

He was so, so happy.

But something was missing.

 _Dorian_ , he realized.

But Dorian was so young, and the two just didn't have much in common any more. It saddened Chaol, thinking about that.

 _Oh well._ He glanced up at a bird that was squawking obnoxiously. _I'll get over him eventually. There's nothing left for me with him. I'm sure he understands._

Unfortunately, Chaol was very wrong in his assumption.

* * *

When the two finally made their way back to the training room, Lithaen was already waiting for Chaol.

She gave him a small smile as her eyes flicked up and down his sweaty form.

"Hello," she said, approaching them, her hips swaying back and forth. "I assume you forgot the time?"

Chaol glanced at the clock. It was already seven. "Oh Gods. I'm so sorry! I had no idea how late it was getting!"

She shook her head at him. "No worries, my dear. All is forgiven." She leaned up and planted a fat kiss on Chaol's lips. Chaol smiled against them.

He was pretty sure he heard Jamie say something along the lines of "ew," but she was gone by the time he turned around.

"Why don't you go get dressed into something a little cleaner and then we can get going?" Lithaen asked, one had on Chaol's chest.

He nodded quietly.

* * *

Lithaen and Chaol had a fantastic time that night.

First, took a carriage into town and spent some time wandering through shops and watching the hustle and bustle of the crowds.

It was a very therapeutic experience. So quiet and peaceful standing with Lithaen, but at the same time loud and energetic things were going on around them as they walked down the streets, arm in arm.

After that, they headed down to the restaurant.

They'd had reservations for 7:45, and they were almost late.

Chaol had glanced at a clock just in the nick of time, realizing that if they didn't get there in seven minutes, their table would be given to someone else.

"Come on!" Chaol had yelped to Lithaen.

Her gaze had followed his and, seeing what time it was, hoisted up her skirts and scampered out of the shop onto the sidewalks.

The two of them hadn't made great time—Lithaen had on heels much higher than was probably smart, so she'd had to basically tip-toe the whole way—but luckily weren't late.

When they'd finally arrived, Lithaen out of breath, the clock's hand moved right as they stepped inside. Just on time!

Now, the pair was sitting at their table, happily enjoying their food.

Chaol horked his down as fast as he could without being impolite. He hadn't eaten anything since lunch and had endured a very brutal training session.

Lithaen was watching him quietly as he did this, seeming thoughtful. Eventually, Chaol clued in to the fact that he was being watched and glanced up from his food.

"What?" he asked, covering his mouth, which was full of food.

She shrugged. "I don't know. I guess I've never…" she paused, as though this was really something new to her. "I guess I've never realized how much I like you."

Chaol smiled softly. "I love you," he said without thinking. Then he stopped. He worried that he might have scared her, by the look on her face. Neither of them had ever said that to each other before.

Then she covered her heart with her hand. "Oh, Chaol! I love you, too!" Lithaen leaned across the table, put one hand on either side of his face, and kissed him gently.

Chaol decided the night had been a success.

* * *

Dorian sat in the entry hall, reading. It was getting late, and he really should have been in his room, but he just didn't want to move.

Suddenly, the doors were flung open.

In came Chaol and Lithaen, hand in hand. Chaol's head was thrown back, laughing at something Lithaen had said. Lithaen was giggling obnoxiously, the way she did whenever she'd said something mildly funny.

Dorian grumbled. He hated seeing them together.

He supposed that Lithaen might actually like Chaol a little bit—he was really a great guy—but what Chaol saw in her, Dorian had no idea.

He supposed he should have been happy for Chaol, but he wasn't.

His problem wasn't that he was jealous, no, he was actually sort of glad Chaol had someone, so why was he so upset by it?

He got up and walked away, slinking out unnoticed by the happy couple.

 **Chapter Release Date: February 4, 2018**


	22. Chapter 22: An Attempt at Making Friends

**A/N: Here's another short one. Hope you guys don't mind.**

 **Chapter Twenty-Two: An Attempt at Making Friends**

Dorian sat on the steps up to the palace alone, as he had taken to doing lately when he wasn't up for reading and wasn't in a council meeting.

He was staring off into space at the moment, watching the birds search for worms in the wet ground, when suddenly he heard footsteps.

His head jerked up.

"Hello!" A cheerful voice greeted him. "You're the Crown Prince, right?"

He frowned, but nodded.

"I'm Lisa," she said, her eyes containing an enthusiastic gleam. "I've seen you in the library sometimes. Do you enjoy books?"

He nodded again, unsure what else to do. She seemed very eccentric.

"So do I," Lisa grinned. In fact, she had a book tucked under her arm at that very moment. "Do you mind if I sit, Your Highness?"

"No, no, not at all," Dorian responded, feeling rather uncomfortable. People didn't often just start talking to him so casually.

He grimaced slightly at her words— _Your Highness_ she'd called him. He'd given up by now trying to get people to call him "Dorian" rather than any of those proper things, but he definitely still minded it.

She plopped down, opened her book, and started reading.

Dorian remained quiet for some time, watching her. She seemed odd, but in a good way. She had long, waist-length, dirty-blonde hair, paired with mud-brown eyes, which were very large. When she read, she seemed lost in a world that was entirely fiction. _Rather like me, I suppose._ Dorian thought.

He eventually gave up trying to make sense of both her and her reasons for coming over here, and went back to staring off into space.

After a while, he became aware of the fact that she was now watching him.

Dorian swiveled his head, meeting her gaze. She blushed a little, glancing away.

"Sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"No, you didn't!" Dorian insisted. "I don't care."

"Okay," Lisa mumbled. She glanced hesitantly at her book, as though trying to decide whether it would be rude to go back to reading.

"What sorts of books do you like?" Dorian asked softly. He was quite bored, and if she was willing to talk to him, he figured he might as well take advantage of it.

"Oh, all sorts. Mostly fantasy and adventure." Lisa smiled a little, her eyes now on Dorian, rather than the paper and ink piece of artwork in her lap.

Dorian bobbed his head up and down. "So do I," he said, hoping to stimulate conversation.

Silence again. Dorian shifted a little.

"Are you royalty?" Dorian asked. He knew it was a dangerous topic—either she was a snobby rich girl and would start discussing wealth, or she was like him and wouldn't want to talk about it. Or, if she wasn't of royal blood, she might get upset at his question. However, he felt that he should probably know, seeing as his father didn't want him around the children of anyone "sub-par" in the king's standards, unless they were waiting on him.

Lisa huffed. "Does that matter?" she asked, sounding a little annoyed. Dorian praised himself silently: This was one of the reactions he'd foretold.

"I was simply wondering—if you're not, we'll have to sneak around if we keep talking—my father doesn't like me socializing with anyone below the rank of a duke or lord or a lady."

Her brows furrowed, obviously still upset. "I'm the daughter of one of the cooks."

Dorian shrugged. "Okay. Can you score me extra pie?" He had a hopeful expression on his face.

She chuckled. "Probably not."

Dorian smiled for the first time in what felt like years. "Ah, well, it was worth a shot, wasn't it?"

Lisa just shook her head. "Yes, I suppose it was."

The two of them grinned at each other. Seeming to have nothing else to say, Lisa went back to reading.

"What's your book about?" Dorian asked, desperately wanting someone to talk to. He missed Chaol so much, and he needed to _speak._

She looked up again. As she began to explain it, Dorian realized it sounded familiar.

"Oh, hey! Chaol—one of my friends—used to really like that book!" His stomach gave a pang of sadness as he thought of his friend.

She nodded. "Chaol… he sounds familiar. Isn't he the one that abandoned his title and people to become a guard?"

"Yeah." Dorian looked down a little.

She frowned a little. "I'm pretty sure I met him a long time ago. He was quite rude."

Dorian cocked his head. "Really? That's not like him. He's usually very nice." Dorian stopped for a second, realizing he was defending the boy that he mildly hated at that moment. "Or at least, he used to be."

"You two no longer friends?"

"No, not really. We've sort of grown apart. And he got a girlfriend."

"Aw, that sucks. Well, if you're willing, I could be your girlfriend. As in a friend who's a girl, not the other thing."

"Sure," Dorian said, a half smile plastered across his face. He was lonely enough that he was willing to jump at any opportunity to not be completely isolated all the time, even if it was with a girl he'd just met that said Chaol was mean. "How old are you, by the way?" Dorian asked.

"Thirteen. Same as you," she replied.

Dorian didn't respond; instead, he turned to the world, going back to observing the birds in silence.

She sat there too, watching the birds as he did.

They stayed there for a while, just sitting there, quietly trying to figure each other out.

It was rather peaceful. The silence had an odd calming effect on the two, and in some ways, the silence was more informative than the speaking had been.

They had been there for what could have been hours, or could have been mere minutes when Lisa finally left.

Dorian remained though, feeling as though perhaps he had at last found someone he could be happy with, someone who wasn't Chaol.

He remembered the way he'd felt after meeting Chaol, and it wasn't anything like this. There wasn't that profound, perfectly obvious bond already in place, but it was something.

And at least he wasn't alone.

 **Chapter Release Date: February 9, 2018**


	23. Chapter 23: Bonding Over Books

**A/N: You guys have a nice Valentine's Day? Am I the only single cookie out there? Yes? No? Maybe?**

 **Welcome to chapter 23. This story is now officially longer than my first fanfic (** _ **Vampires Don't Exist**_ **) in both words and chapters.**

 **Warning: *spoiler alert* Dorian has mild suicidal thoughts (just about wishing he was dead), but nothing too serious.**

 **Chapter Twenty-Three: Bonding Over Books**

Lisa and Dorian bonded quickly over books. They met most days in the library, the way that Dorian had always done in the past with Chaol. It was a little sad, but Dorian was glad to have a friend.

They became inseparable faster than one might have expected, but it was only natural for them both to want to spend time with each other—neither had close friends.

Dorian wouldn't have called them best friends, but he had a feeling that Lisa might at the moment. She seemed more attached to him than he was to her.

He felt a little guilty, to be honest. He was using her, a bit, to get over losing Chaol. Sure, the duo had grown apart over the years, but it had been so difficult for Dorian when he finally realized what had happened, especially after all he'd done to help Chaol.

The two were so far from each other now that when Dorian hadn't even seen Chaol when the older boy turned 17. That was a particularly low point for Dorian. The only comfort in the whole thing was that Chaol seemed to be happy, and that made Dorian happy.

But no matter, time went on, and so did Dorian, even if Chaol wasn't there with him.

Instead, Lisa was.

They went almost everywhere together, mostly just because Dorian hated being alone and Lisa didn't mind following him around when there wasn't anyone who might tell Dorian's father.

One such afternoon, the two were headed to the library, a common destination for both of them. Along the way, they stumbled upon one of the other court boys.

Dorian struggled to recall his first name, but had no such luck. He didn't talk to many of them outside of court meetings, so the only thing that stuck in his mind about 95 percent of those dickheads were their last names.

"Hello, Your Highness," said the boy—Gray was his last name.

"Hi," Dorian said nervously.

"I'm glad to see you've got a girlfriend, Your Highness. You have appeared lonely lately." Gray seemed to be attempting to make pleasant small talk.

"She's not my—"

Chaol, who had been walking past, interrupted. "You've got a girlfriend?" Chaol asked, seeming surprised. "Well, good for you." Then he frowned a little. "This is she?"

"She's my friend, but not—"

Once again, Chaol cut him off. "I'm glad you're putting yourself out there, Dorian," Chaol said as he patted Dorian on the back, "but don't you think you're a little young?"

"We aren't—"

"No, you're right. It's totally fine. You need someone to spend time with, and I've seen you two together—she seems nice."

"I don't have a girlfriend!" Dorian finally got out.

Chaol smirked. "Sure," he said, winking. "I won't tell anyone."

And then he strode off, like he was so high and mighty, leaving Chaol by himself once more.

 _I'm not alone though,_ he reminded himself. _I have Lisa._

Dorian glanced around for Gray, but the boy was gone.

"Come on," Lisa groaned, tugging on Dorian's arm. "Let's get to the library."

"Do people really think we're dating?" Dorian asked inquisitively.

"Does it matter?" Lisa countered, exasperated. "Look at the time, Dorian. Now we've only got three hours and seventeen minutes until we're supposed to be at dinner!"

He grumbled, but followed her dutifully. Sometimes, he felt like she was more bossy than he was, which felt wrong somehow, seeing as he was basically being _raised_ to be bossy.

* * *

Dorian let out a sigh, flopping down against his bed.

What a day.

He'd earned a lecture from his father (though at this point, he still really wasn't sure what he'd done, seeing as he hadn't listened to a single second of it), gone to two court meetings (which he barely recalled, seeing as he was too occupied by watching the clock to actually listen), been forced to take the shrieking Hollin to the nursery because his mother was too busy (which was more entertaining than the court meetings, but equally as excruciating), and dealt with a long argument with Lisa that was certainly less than fun (but better than everything else).

He rubbed his face. He hated being alive sometimes. It all felt so pointless, so useless. Some days, Dorian just wanted to die.

As he thought over his day, contemplated death, and wondered about his friendship with Lisa, Dorian's brain came to rest on a single event of the day—when Chaol had thought that Dorian and Lisa were dating.

He wasn't sure why it had bothered him so much; it really shouldn't have, but for some strange reason, it did.

It wasn't like Chaol had been angry with him, had it? And besides, Chaol had a girlfriend of his own, so if anything, Chaol should be glad that Dorian was no longer so isolated!

Dorian let out a faint groan, unable to contain his frustration that seemed to have no source.

Perhaps it was that this was the first time that Chaol and Dorian had spoken in weeks.

Yes, that was it.

Dorian was simply upset because his old friend had only noticed him now because Chaol thought that Dorian had a girlfriend, and it had spurred their first actual conversation in nearly six months, which was more than a little underwhelming and annoying. Sure, they'd had the occasional word here and there, but it was the only time since the previous winter that they had truly both uttered more than one complete sentence to each other in one short amount of time.

But that didn't feel like the full answer.

No, Dorian realized. It was more that he didn't want Chaol to know that he'd moved on. He was sort of hoping that if Chaol saw him without anyone, he'd return, either out of guilt or understanding that perhaps he'd been wrong.

Dorian pinched his nose. Why was his head so complicated? He was having trouble figuring out his own emotions, his own reasoning. When were things going to start making sense? Start putting themselves back together? And more importantly, when was he going to start feeling better?

He shook his head to himself. _It doesn't matter,_ he thought. _I'll figure it out someday. Besides, it's not like anyone cares. Chaol's made it very clear that he doesn't care who has what friends. He doesn't care about me at all anymore, not like he used to. It'd be better to just move on now before it becomes impossible._

He decided that tomorrow, he'd make amends with Lisa, and then he'd make an attempt at be friends with the other boys in the court of his age. He would need those connections later, and besides—he didn't know any of them, so how could he be so sure that they were really that bad? Maybe he'd be surprised!

Dorian sighed heavily, thinking back to when he'd first met Chaol. It had been in a court meeting, and several of those boys he now went with had been there. None of them seemed as interesting, as kind, or as smart as Chaol was, though.

 _I'll just give it a shot,_ he decided. _If I don't like them, it's back to being antisocial for me._

 **Chapter Release Date: February 17, 2018**


	24. Chp24: A Bond With a Questionable Crowd

**A/N: Hey guys! Here's chapter 24 for you. Have any of you guys checked out my new Harry Potter fic yet? The first chapter came out today, and I'm really excited about it! Anyway, here's the next chapter. We're getting really close to being halfway done, by the way.**

 **Chapter Twenty-Four: A Bond With a Questionable Crowd**

Dorian, just as he'd decided he would, began to make an effort with the other court boys, and, to his surprise, they weren't half bad.

As a matter a fact, a group of five of them (including Dorian) became friends quite soon after Dorian started trying to be likeable around them.

They were all a lot nicer than Dorian had expected them to be, and they were really quite kind to Dorian. They seemed to understand that, unlike all of them, he was soft, gentle, and prefered reading to swordplay and politics. Oddly enough, they also didn't seem to mind. On the contrary, they seemed to value the different approach to life. Instead of immediately rejecting him the way many young boys would have, they welcomed him and seemed interested in what he had to say, even though that wasn't much at all.

Dorian would have thought that they were playing at something, trying to pull a prank on him, except for the fact that their friendship didn't just last for a few days.

No, it lasted weeks. And then months. Which greatly surprised Dorian.

And, as time passed, they all grew closer. They even let Lisa join them sometimes. Dorian still spent more time with her than with the rest, remembering the pain Chaol had caused him, but he didn't let that stop him from hanging out with the boys.

He liked having the company of other boys his age, but he also didn't feel that he quite fit with them.

They liked to talk about money, girls, and would spend hours talking about war and rulers. Dorian didn't enjoy that, but he waited out those conversations for the better ones, the ones about the universe, and the concept of life. Those conversations, he got the feeling, where only in place because the others wanted him to feel like he was one of them. They did things like that a lot, actually. Dorian appreciated how hard they were trying to make him fit in, but often times it just made him feel like a complete drag, the dead weight, amongst the five of them.

The days when he felt particularly like that were the ones that he spent with Lisa.

His father had found out about Lisa, but, apparently deciding his son needed friends, let it pass.

And throughout all of that, Dorian began to notice changes. He turned fourteen, his voice began to deepen, and he started paying more attention to the details of everything. He also shot up in height, going from about five feet tall to five-four in three months. At this point, he was five-six and didn't appear to be done growing yet.

He wasn't the only one in his group experiencing this, but they all went through it together, and as they did so, Dorian began to realize how far he'd come.

Not just growth wise, but also socially. This time last year, he'd still been friends with Chaol, and Chaol alone.

Now, after spending almost a year without him, Dorian was starting to feel like maybe losing Chaol hadn't been such a bad thing. After all, he was more popular than he'd ever been, and for once didn't feel numb all the time.

But that didn't stop Dorian from missing Chaol. He still loved Chaol to pieces, and he would have traded almost anything to get him back. To spend late nights in the library with him once more, to huddle in the corner with him at parties, and to discuss deeply philosophical questions with. How he missed the boy he'd grown up with.

Dorian looked down, suddenly feeling quite sad.

"Are you alright?" Lisa asked him, seeming to notice that something was amiss.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Just reading a sad story," he responded. "The dog died."

She frowned slightly, but decided to let it go. "Alright."

He looked away from her.

He knew she hated it when he lied to her, but there were some things that he just didn't want to talk to her about, mostly consisting of anything having to do with Chaol and why he was so upset by the rumor that Dorian and Lisa were dating.

Luckily though, by now that rumor had been quenched, and they were no longer asked. Lisa was a bit like a sister to him, and people finally seemed to get that.

Dorian was mulling that past conversation with Lisa over in his head when he was rudely jerked back to reality by Ashton, one of his new friends.

"You paying attention, Dorian?" he asked, pulling Dorian out of a far away land.

"Sorry. What were you saying?"

Daniel and Zeke laughed a little, but Sebastian and Ashton just rolled their eyes.

"We were asking you if you had a crush on anyone, prince," Zeke said gently.

"No, not really," Dorian shrugged.

"Seriously?" Ashton asked. "You're not any fun."

"Not even Lisa?" Daniel pestered. "You need a girlfriend, Dorian, and we're going to get you one! You seem lonely, and we're only going to be able to help if you're honest with us!"

"I am serious!" Dorian said, annoyed. "I don't have a crush on any girls, nor have I ever. I'm just not there yet. Why don't you guys grill someone else?"

"Fine," Daniel groaned. "No need to be touchy."

"Yeah," seconded Sebastian. "You're weird."

The other boys giggled, and Dorian felt his face heat with their teasing. He hated it when they did that, even though he knew it was all good-natured.

But then they went back to talking to each other, and left Dorian alone, feeling very uncomfortable all of the sudden.

He stared off into space, not really interested in who liked whom, who was going to which parties, or what new way of pissing off parents had been discovered. He just wanted to know why he was different.

And that was exactly what he spent the rest of his time in the courtyard with his friends thinking about. The idea that he wasn't wired like the rest of them left him perplexed all the way until he got back to his room, where he flopped down with a sigh, like he most nights. Here, finally, he was able to let the day go. Or at least, for the time being.

Dorian lay there, watching the canopy of his bed, his mind peacefully quiet, until he realized that he probably should be spending his evening doing something productive. It wasn't even 9:00 yet, and there were so many things he could be doing!

He wasn't really in the mood for the library, or simply reading in his room either, so he sat down at his cluttered desk and searched around the mountains of papers for his pen and his diary.

He hadn't practiced his magic in a long time, but he'd gotten pretty good before. He figured it was about time that he try again, or else he might lose all the skills he'd learned.

It had been almost a year since he'd discovered it, he realized. _My, how time flies,_ he thought. He'd still been friends with Chaol—or at least, sort of.

He had, even though not flat out practiced, used his magic on occasion in the past few months. He'd used it to turn on the lamps in his bedroom, lift papers from his desk, that sort of thing.

Dorian had realized in the very beginning that it wasn't just an icey sort of magic that he had. From what he'd gathered, he had raw magic.

At this point, he was adept at keeping it contained. He'd gotten a grip on his emotions a while ago, so that had made it a lot easier to control his abilities.

He sat there, staring at the diary, willing it to open. It took a few tries, but hey—he was out of practice. When it finally did, he focused on turning each of the pages with his mind until he found the first blank one.

Then, taking the pen, he began to write in it. It was a slow process, as he had to think very hard about each movement, but the longer he remained at his seat, the faster it began to go. His mind was remembering.

After about an hour, he finally went to bed, exhausted.

He began to stare once more up at his ceiling in silence. Utter silence. At that moment, he hated silence. He hated how alone it made him feel, even though he knew he wasn't—not really.

He had friends now, didn't he? There was no reason to ever feel alone again! But he did, and he didn't like that.

Thinking of his friends just brought him back to the topic earlier—crushes. Why wasn't he there yet? Shouldn't he be? Everyone else did, so what made him different? Why weren't there any girls that he wanted to kiss, to court, to date?

He squeezed his eyes shut. He had to find a lady he liked, because otherwise he'd marry some bimbo that he hated. He hoped that at the very least, he'd marry a young woman that he liked as a friend, but he really wanted it to be based out of love.

He sighed in frustration, and a tiny voice in the back of his head whispered, _You're just different. You were never meant to like girls._ But he dismissed it. Who else was he supposed to like?

 **Chapter Release Date: February 24, 2018**


	25. Chapter 25: The Questioning Begins

**A/N: Hey, chapter 25 guys! Halfway to fifty! Also, this is going to be a fairly short chapter. Hope you don't mind.**

 **That being said, we might have some new readers here. As said in chapter one, here is where you should have skipped to if you wanted gloss over the early years. So here's a quick recap.**

* * *

 _Dorian Havilliard, Crown Prince of Adarlan, met his best—and only—friend when he was just eight and Chaol was eleven. The two bonded immediately, but, like all friendships, they had difficulties. After just a few years of being friends, Chaol was forced to move back to his homeland of Aneille. This, of course, drove a rift between the friends, though they were still able to see each other occasionally, and write to one another._

 _Dorian and Chaol both wished to escape their birthrights, but only Chaol could possibly do that. After many years spent unhappy, he finally made the decision to abdicate his title and become a member of the royal guard, with the help of a few members on Dorian's detail._

 _That meant that they were able to see each other once more, which should have meant that they'd grow closer again, right? Wrong._

 _Chaol got a girlfriend, and suddenly all of his time was occupied by her and his training, and so Dorian began to drift from his old friend. In this drifting, however, he met a girl about his age named Lisa, and the two became friends. He also became friends with a group of court boys, who were all girl crazy. At which point he began to feel different, because he wasn't._

 _Now, wondering why that might be—and trying to feel less alone and more like maybe he has a family—Dorian is turning to Lisa for her advice on his increasing unease with his feelings. Since he doesn't have Chaol anymore, he tells Lisa everything. But there's one thing that he'd never tell her—or Chaol, for that matter: Dorian is able to do magic, and he's known since he was thirteen—so for over a year._

* * *

 **Chapter Twenty-Five: The Questioning Begins**

This mystery continued to plague Dorian for quite a bit of time, causing him more than a little bit of concern. His father was always stressing to Dorian how important it was to find a good, strong woman that could carry the weight of the crown and, preferably, who he loved.

So what would the king think about a son who didn't love women the way he was supposed to?

That thought was the most worrying for Dorian. He couldn't bear to think about his father being that upset with him just because he was different. His father hated anything and anyone that was different.

 _Different._

Dorian didn't like that word. Or the idea that _he_ was so profoundly different. He liked standing out, and didn't mind that none of the other boys his age liked books and philosophy, but for some reason, this did bother him. Like they were all judging him…or something like that. This just felt like he was taking it one step too far, somehow.

He thought about all of this so much that he even brought it up to Lisa, who had basically become his new counselor-in-chief.

"Lisa?" he asked her, after much deliberation as to whether or not he should actually talk to her about it. He was worried she'd just make fun of him for worrying about what other people thought. And for worrying about crushes.

Lisa rolled her eyes at Dorian. "I know that tone. You've got something on your mind. Come on, don't be shy. Spill," she commanded.

Dorian pursed his lips, second guessing himself. What would she say? Would she just laugh at him?

"Well," he finally got out, "I've just… you know, I'm not in that same place as the other boys my age."

Lisa smirked at him. "And what place would that be? The whole 'crushes on girls' thing?"

This had been a bad idea. "Yeah," Dorian forced through his lips nervously.

"Dorian, that's nothing to worry about. It just means you'll get there later!"

"I know, I know," he said, feeling a little embarrassed. "I shouldn't have said anything."

"No," Lisa said, her face softening. "No, Dorian, you should always say something! I'm going to be here for you no matter what, and you can talk to me about anything! I just want you to know that you shouldn't be worried about this."

"Really?" Dorian asked. "I mean, I just can't help but feel like I should be. Everything seems to be saying I should—my voice has deepened; I'm growing up. What if I never reach that point? Seriously—what if I don't? I know we talk all the time about how we like being different, but I don't think I like this kind of different. I want to fall in love, to find someone to spend the rest of my life with!"

Lisa looked him dead in the eyes. "Dorian. You'll get there. And even if you don't, that's totally fine! Falling in love isn't the most important thing in the world—loving in general is! You can find people to spend the rest of your life with, but you don't have to love them in a romantic way! You should just relax: You won't solve anything by worrying about liking girls, and it's certainly not going to happen any sooner because of the worrying. Besides, you're going to have to marry whether or not you want to, and you'll have to marry a woman of adequate blood status. You know that. Whether you fall in love with a woman or not, it's unlikely you'll love the one that you marry."

He nodded along. "Yes, but just say that I don't end up feeling that way—"

"Dorian! It's not a big deal!" Dorian looked away. Lisa groaned. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that. Love is a big deal; I'm just trying to say that it's not something you should be worrying about right now. There are plenty of people who don't start feeling that way until much later, so maybe you're one of those people! Or maybe you're one of the ones that needs to find the right person before they start to feel that way! You're perfectly normal in that sense, Dorian, and you need to let it go."

Dorian looked at her, and nodded again. "I guess you're right," he murmured. "I'll forget about it." It wasn't the entire truth, but he did feel better having talked to her about it, and he decided that perhaps he shouldn't be so worried.

"Thank you. You need to stop listening to those boys and their teasing, I'm telling you. They just make you feel bad!"

Lisa was right about that too, Dorian realized. They did make him feel upset. But they also made him feel like he belonged to something for once.

 _But maybe that's not what matters. Maybe I don't have to belong to something to be whole. After all, I've got Lisa, haven't I?_

He dismissed this idea, however, deciding that it was a problem to deal with at a later date. Right now, he was just content to read beside his best friend.

 **Chapter Release Date: March 3, 2018**


	26. Chapter 26: A Shot at Being Friends

**A/N: Do you guys realize that it's been six whole months since chapter one came out? And eight since the trailer? I feel like it's still just the beginning, but I guess that it really isn't.**

 **Chapter Twenty-Six: A Shot at Being Friends**

A lot happened in the following year.

Chaol got appointed to the guard detail, Lisa got her first boyfriend (though they split up quickly), and Dorian stopped hanging out with the other court boys.

He knew them all well enough that when the time came, things would be fine, but for now, he figured he really only wanted to stick around the people that he liked. Which really only consisted of Chaol and Lisa, and Chaol was now off-limits.

Dorian turned fifteen, and he started to feel like his years of freedom were slipping out of his grasp. He was getting closer and closer to an age where he could potentially rule, should anything happen to his father, and an age where he could marry. That thought scared him. In two and a half years, he could be ruling the country and married to some money-hungry bitch. Gods above.

So he tried to focus on happier, smaller things to keep his mind from going there. Books and Lisa, mostly.

Tonight, however, he could focus on nothing other than the deafening cello music and his mother's obnoxious rant about how he really needed to get a girlfriend one of these days. How he needed to start thinking about marriage.

He watched the other courtiers on the dance floor, near the refreshment tables, and dining. They all seemed so oblivious, so happy. Why was that? Why was he not content, the way that they all seemed to be?

He let out an audible breath.

Queen Georgina's eyes narrowed. "Dorian? Dorian, honey, are you listening to me?"

"Yes, mother," the prince lied as he sat, sprawled across his throne in the most careless position he could muster. He was able to get away with sitting like that when his father wasn't there. His mother, of course, still scolded him, but she wasn't in any way like his father.

"I wish your father had decided to come to this one," the queen murmured, shifting where she was, her voice softening. "He never wants to do anything like this." It was as though she was reading Dorian's mind.

 _Maybe there's a reason for him constantly skipping. If I had the power, I wouldn't come to these stupid things either,_ Dorian thought bitterly.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Chaol standing by a tall pillar. He was very handsome in his black guard's uniform, the royal seal plastered upon his left breast.

Dorian shook his head slightly. _I'm not supposed to think of Chaol as handsome… or, at least not the way I just did. We're both guys._

Dorian felt his heart groan, and he realised how much he missed Chaol. It had been almost two years since they'd really been friends, but Dorian still wanted Chaol back. He had never wanted to part ways, and in a sense he felt that Chaol hadn't either. But regardless, they'd grown apart, like many people do. Dorian had, of course, always been in favor of sticking things out through both the good and the bad—he didn't feel as though friendship was something to be abandoned and cast aside when things got difficult.

Dorian had felt like Chaol and he were just as close as they'd always been when Chaol started drifting, but Chaol had just left him behind, and there was nothing that Dorian could have done about it, past or present.

At that moment, Chaol looked up from his post and, for a brief second, their gazes met. Chaol looked away. Dorian felt his face heat up.

He sighed, and got to his feet. He couldn't stand being there for a second longer.

"Where are you going?" Queen Georgina asked, sounding annoyed. "You said you'd stay!"

"No, mother," Dorian countered. "I said I'd show up. I don't want to be in this room any more time I have to be."

And with that, he strode from the room.

Several ladies tried to stop him along the way, but he just kept pushing past them. He didn't want to talk to anyone. He wanted to be _alone._ It was so crowded… so warm… so many people.

He felt his heart quickening as the sea of courtiers contracted around him. It seemed as though he was suffocating.

"Please, just let me through," he ground out.

"Oh, but just one dance!" a lady pleaded.

"You simply _must_ stay for a few more," said yet another, grabbing his arm as she did so.

"Let me through," Dorian repeated himself. He was almost to the door… so close…

"Let the prince through," said a deep voice from behind. "There's no need to cause a ruckus, ladies. There will be other parties."

Dorian looked around for his saviour, and his eyes fell on… _Chaol._

Chaol took Dorian's arm and cleared a path through all of the people, guiding Dorian through the sea of courtiers and royals as they attempted to speak to the prince.

The doors closed behind them as the stepped out of the hall. The two boys stood there, facing each other in awkward silence.

"Er… shouldn't you be getting back?" Dorian asked.

"No, my shift just ended," Chaol responded. Dorian nodded.

"Okay."

"You want me to walk you back to your room, seeing as your detail isn't here right now?"

"Yeah, sure," Dorian said. "But really, I can walk myself."

"Then why'd you say yes?" Chaol smirked.

"I— _Chaol_ ," he groaned.

Chaol just shook his head. "Come on," he said. "Let's get going before they all start making excuses to come follow you."

"Yes. Let's."

The two walked down hallways, mostly remaining quiet, until Chaol finally said, "So, how have things been with you? We haven't spoken in so long."

"Good, good," Dorian said, doing his best to sound like he didn't care about Chaol anymore, like he wasn't totally thrilled that the other boy actually seemed interesting in Dorian's current life.

Chaol raised an eyebrow. "You know, when you lie, you get this adorable little dimple between your eyebrows. And now you're narrowing your eyes at me the way you do when you're not sure what I'm trying to get out of you."

Dorian felt his face heat. How could Chaol still read him so well? "Yes, well…"

Chaol smiled at him. "Tell me the truth, please."

Dorian shrugged, defeated. "I don't know. I'm sad, I guess, but I've had worse." He thought about his slowly worsening moods. He knew he was suffering from depression—there was no doubt about it—but he also didn't know how to voice what he was feeling. It had been so much worse a few years ago, though, when Chaol had first left. "I… I miss being friends with you. Especially now," Dorian continued. "I mean, my parents are pestering me about finding a woman that meets their standards, and it won't be another few years until I'm eighteen! And I figure that you'd have something witty to say about it, that you'd be able to help me through this sort of thing. And then, you've finally become a guard, after all these years spent dreaming, and I'm not there for you."

Chaol cocked his head. "I guess I miss being friends with you, too. I especially miss the times in the library. Now that I'm a guard, I have no time to read anymore! I was also kind of thinking the same thing. I mean, I've reached my goal, and I wouldn't have without you. It seems so wrong that you weren't there through all of it. But I know that's partially my fault. As for the marriage thing—I'm sorry. I know that's gotta be rough. I'm not sure if there's anything you can do to prevent it. On the bright side, though, you don't really have to start worrying about it until it's time for you to ascend to the throne."

Dorian nodded distantly. "I suppose so."

"We should hang out again," Chaol said spontaneously. "Really, we should. I know that you're no longer friends with any of those court boys, so you've got to be a little lonely."

"No really. I mean, okay, yeah, but I've still got Lisa."

"That's my point! Let's meet in the library sometime when I'm off work!"

Dorian nodded enthusiastically. "I'd love that!"

"Well then, it's settled. Goodnight, my prince."

They'd reached Dorian's room. With regret, Dorian said goodnight back, and then closed the door to his room.

Excitement filled his being. He might have a shot at being friends with Chaol again! And what was more, Chaol actually missed hanging out with him! He felt his heart swell, and he realized that he was happier than he had been in years.

 **Chapter Release Date: March 10, 2018**


	27. Chapter 27: A Step Towards Light

**A/N: We're just about half way there, guys! Amazing, huh?**

 **Chapter Twenty-Seven: A Step Towards Light**

Chaol stayed true to his word, and the very next week, Dorian received a letter telling him to meet the other boy in the library at 3:00, Saturday afternoon.

Leaping with joy, Dorian quickly canceled all of his plans around that time, informed Lisa of what was happening, and set proudly off to the library.

He arrived an hour early, not wanting to miss a second of available time with Chaol, but his efforts proved useless—Chaol didn't show up until half past four.

"Sorry I'm so late," he said, out of breath. "I got caught up with some work; I'm so sorry, Dorian! Really!" And he really looked sorry, too.

It wasn't that fake, "I'm sorry that I didn't want to come" type of thing; it was completely sincere.

"It's fine!" Dorian said, not wanting to start off their first get together since he was 13 off on the wrong foot. He didn't feel like it was fine, but he could let it go for now. Afterall, Chaol had tried, hadn't he?

Chaol smiled. "Alright. Great. So, how's life been? I know that you're friends with that Lisa girl, but I don't think I've ever really spoken to her. What's she like? Do you have a crush on her?" Chaol waggled his eyebrows. "I know you two were never dating, but still!"

"No, actually," Dorian sighed. He _really_ did hate how people constantly assumed things like that. "I don't have a crush on her. We're just friends, and that's all we'll ever be and it's exactly what I want us to be! But all that aside, she's really nice. She's funny, and really talkative, but only once you break through her exterior shell. Before that she's really introverted. Not like you though. She doesn't understand me like you do."

Chaol shrugged. "I don't think I understand you that much anymore, Dorian. It's been two years."

"Yes, but before that, we were best friends for five!" Dorian stopped for a second. "Alright. I suppose I should rephrase that, then. She doesn't know me the way you _used_ to. But anyway, how are you? How are the other guards?"

Chaol nodded. "Okay. I've got some friends on the force. Mostly the ones from your detail. Jeydon and Jamie are the ones I'm closest with. Jamie's absolutely incredible. I think she should be the next Captain of the Guard—she's the best one out there—but I know they'll never let her. And just because she's a woman—I mean really! It's so unfair…. Anyway, I'm kind of hoping that when the current captain retires—or dies—I'll get the job, since Jamie won't. But I know that it's a lot to hope for."

"Huh. They're really nice to me. Jeydon's close to your age, isn't he? Only 21 or so."

"Yeah. But so is Jamie. She's just 24."

"Cool." It was all Dorian could think to say. This conversation was turning out to be a lot more awkward than Dorian had hoped.

The two were quiet for a moment.

"You and Lithaen still going out?"

"Yeah, we are! Amazing, isn't it? It's been over two years!" Chaol looked excited.

Dorian didn't say anything. He wasn't really fond of Lithaen. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that he'd never really talked to her for more than a few minutes at a time and that she'd practically stolen his best friend, but all in all, he supposed he could put up with her if she made Chaol happy. They'd been going out for that long, after all, so they clearly both liked each other, despite what Dorian thought of Lithaen.

Chaol, seeming to sense Dorian's discomfort, switched the subject.

"So, how come you're no longer hanging out with those other court boys?"

"Besides the fact that they're totally dick sacks?"

Chaol let out a snort. "Besides that, yes. I didn't know that you were swearing now."

"I'm fifteen, Chaol." _So stop treating me like I'm a little kid,_ Dorian added silently.

"Yes, I suppose."

"Well, I mean, they were teasing me about how I'm still really not interested in girls, how I've never had a girlfriend, how I'm still… well, still a virgin, and—"

"You're still a virgin?" Chaol asked, looking surprised.

"What did you expect?" Dorian retorted, slightly irritated. "Anyway, they thought I was weird and were constantly bringing up everything I just listed, plus being quiet, liking books, and so on. I just wasn't really fitting in with them anymore—not that I ever really did, I guess—so I stopped hanging out with them when they asked me to. We're close enough that things should be fine with them later on, but I'd really rather not stick around those jerks while I don't have to.

"I suppose that makes sense," Chaol said. "And anyone who thinks it's lame that you're not exactly the same as them can go to hell. You're amazing and if they can't see that then they're assholes."

Dorian smiled to himself. Chaol had always been willing to stand up for him no matter what, and it seemed like the same was perhaps—hopefully—still true.

* * *

Dorian was staring up at the canopy of his bed, thinking about earlier.

Chaol was still just as amazing as he had been two years prior, and Dorian hoped that the two could be friends again. He wasn't worried about lost time—the two had connected once more without missing a beat. Okay, not quite, but after the initial awkwardness of not quite knowing where they stood with each other, they both fell right back into that same old rhythm. He just hoped that Chaol wouldn't be too busy.

 _I should probably be busy too,_ Dorian thought to himself, somewhat amused. He did tend to slack off on his work a little more than he probably should have. _That's not something Chaol would do. He's all honor and chivalry. He's perfect, really._

His thoughts drifted as he approached sleep, but they stayed centered around Chaol with his burly arms, his quick wit and charming manner.

He'd definitely gotten stronger since they'd last met was one of the many things that Dorian had realized about his friend when the two hugged goodbye. Dorian also noticed how good Chaol smelled. And how nice it was to be held by Chaol again. And to just _be_ with Chaol.

Dorian paused, jarred out of that peaceful place just before sleep.

 _I feel towards Chaol what the other boys my age are feeling about girls._

That revelation hit him hard.

Was that a thing? Was it okay for him to be like that?

 _Probably not,_ he thought. _If neither of my parents have mentioned it—or anyone else, for that matter—then it probably isn't… okay._

It also made him feel a little uneasy. There was so much he had to hide in his life now. So much he had to keep to himself. Magic. Depression. Now feelings toward Chaol too? It was getting to be too much.

 **Chapter Release Date: March 17, 2018**


	28. Chapter 28: Hide or Speak?

**A/N: Hey, next chapter is going to be a few days early. I'll probably post it on Wednesday (although it might be Thursday), and chapter thirty will probably be a few days late (like the Monday or Tuesday after it's supposed to come out) but don't worry when you see there hasn't been an update—I haven't forgotten. I'll be on spring break though in—**

 **Ha, no, like I'd actually say where I'm going to be. Anyway, I'll probably be too busy to get around to posting, so sorry about that. I hope you all have wonderful spring breaks, and if you won't be having one at all… well, happy start of spring!**

 **Chapter Twenty-Eight: Hide or Speak?**

Dorian's new realization about himself was not something that let him feel relief.

Instead, he was left with a sense of dread. What if there weren't others like him? What if he was completely and totally alone?

 _Maybe I don't have a crush on Chaol. I'm still only 15. I don't know what love is yet. I'm just so desperate to feel something that I've convinced myself to feel…_ this.

That was what Dorian tried to tell himself, because deep in his heart, he knew that if his father had not explained this years ago when he gave Dorian "The Talk," then it was probably something that the king did not want Dorian to feel.

But he couldn't stay silent. He had to know if he was alone or not. But who could he tell?

Certainly not Chaol; that would lead disastrously to questions that Dorian didn't want to reveal the answers to.

But who else? Did he really trust Lisa enough? Would his mother hear him out and not tell his father? Were any of the guards really on Dorian's side?

That dilemma ate away at Dorian's insides for several months, and he couldn't decide on anyone in particular. Which just made him feel more isolated, more depressed, than ever. And it made him question life—if you couldn't let your true colors be seen, why should one bother at all?

In the end, it got to be so bad that Dorian knew he had to talk to someone. It was so different from magic because this was not what he could do, but how he felt like was being tossed aside, and he couldn't stand that.

 _Lisa. She's not going to tell anyone; I trust her. She's the only one I can talk to about this._

Dorian tried to reassure himself as he marched down the hall to the library with the sole intention of finding Lisa and engaging her in conversation—if he didn't, he knew he never would and just continue rotting inside.

He glanced back and forth through the halls. He'd ditched his guards, something that had become more frequent of late. He had learned that sometimes the consequences of escaping his detail were lesser than those of being caught.

Dorian slipped into the library, and looked around. There were plenty of people in there at the moment, but none of them were the one he had been hoping for.

Disappointed, Dorian turned around. _This was a foolish idea. She wouldn't care anyway._

He shoved his way through the door, past a group of his mother's friends as they chattered about some new development with another lady (probably having to do with what she'd worn to breakfast or something silly like that), and finally got out.

He drifted down the halls again, his eyes cast down. Why did he keep going like this?

His feet seemed to have a mind of their own, and lead him to where he knew not. At last, he realized he was in the garden. It was a pretty day—sun beating down on the ground, lush bushes and trees glimmering in the afternoon light—but that wasn't what made him stop.

There, standing before a bunch of roses, was Lisa. His heart began to pound. Would she really accept him? Or would she not?

 _Why am I so worried about this?_ Dorian wondered. _For all I know, it could be perfectly normal and I just haven't heard about it yet. I might not even like Chaol that way!_

He took a deep breath and walked over to her. "Hey. Can we talk? I have something I want to tell you."

"Yeah, sure!" Lisa smiled at him. "Wait… Dorian, if this is what I think it is, I'm really not interested in dating you."

"What? No, no. Not even in the slightest." Dorian frowned. Now even she thought that he liked her? Wonderful. Just what he needed.

"Then what is it?"

"Can we go to the library? There'll be fewer people listening and I really don't want to be overheard."

Lisa raised an eyebrow at him, but followed anyway.

They squeezed their way through crowds of people, Dorian being sure to keep his head down—no point in getting caught now.

When they plopped down in a tiny corner at the back of the library, Lisa immediately turned to Dorian.

"Okay. Spill. What's going on?"

"Well… You know how we talked before about me not having crushes on girls yet?"

Lisa nodded. "Yeah. You were pretty concerned about it."

"Yes. Now, though, I'm pretty sure that there might be a reason for that."

She frowned. "Slim pickings?"

Dorian let out a snort, shaking his head. Then, taking a more serious tone, he took a deep breath and said, "No, no. I've realized that… never mind. This was a stupid idea." Dorian chickened out mid-sentence.

"No, tell me! Whatever it is, I can help you out! You shouldn't have to go through anything alone."

"Okay. You're right. I'm pretty sure that maybe the reason that I haven't had any crushes on girls is that… I like boys instead." He lowered his voice as he said the last part. "Is that… have you heard of that sort of thing before?"

"Oh Dorian," Lisa snorted. "It's totally fine. I mean, a lot of people don't think that, but you're not alone. Being straight is just what's most common and most widely accepted."

"Straight?"

"Well, there are several different types of sexualities—who you like," Lisa clarified at Dorian's raised eyebrow. "'Straight' is the slang term for a girl who likes boys or a boy who likes girls. It's also known as being heterosexual. 'Gay' is the same, but for a girl who likes girls or a boy that likes boys, also referred to as being homosexual. 'Gay' can also be used to describe someone who's not straight, but instead bi, pan, demi, aro, ace, and so on. Those last terms are not as commonly used, and I won't explain them unless you want me to. But the point is, there's plenty of different ways to feel towards different sexes and genders, but not all of them are accepted. I, myself, identify as gay. Just so you know. And please don't go spreading that around."

"Wow. Okay. So which ones are accepted?"

Lisa shifted slightly. "Well, er, really just being straight. I'm sorry, but people like us are kind of just supposed to hide in the dark—we can be killed for being who we are."

"Why?"

"Because people are afraid of the unknown. It's why children are scared of the dark, and adults of dying. People don't like groping around without the light; it's frightening. When someone doesn't understand it, oftentimes instead of trying to, they'll lash out instead." Lisa let out a heavy breath. "I'm sorry, Dorian, but your best bet is to just pretend to be straight. I know that's not what you want to hear, but being out is too dangerous."

Dorian nodded, suddenly feeling even more constricted than before.

He frowned slightly. "How do you know all of this? I've never heard about any of it."

She gave a soft, almost defeated smile. "My mother has some old books of magic. One of them is a book written by an oracle about the future."

* * *

As Dorian flopped down on his bed, his earlier conversation with Lisa flashed through his head.

 _Acceptance._

 _Gay._

 _Straight._

 _Hide._

Those words stuck out from what she'd said.

Why did he have to be gay? Why couldn't he just be straight? That would be so much easier, and he wouldn't have to face the pushback that she'd mentioned. He could just be normal.

 _Maybe I'm not gay. I don't know for sure. I'm probably straight. I bet that this is just a phase or something. Yeah, that's it. I'm not like this._

Tears pricked his eyes. Was what she said true? Were people like him really killed for how they felt?

 _I can never tell Chaol,_ Dorian realized. _He's too invested in following the laws, being good. He'd never understand._

And with that, Dorian began to cry, because it was beginning to become clear that he'd been right all along: He would face pushback and hatred just because he didn't like girls the way he was supposed to. And that felt wrong.

 **Chapter Release Date: March 24, 2018**


	29. Chapter 29: Rosamund

**A/N: Hi guys. How is it the end of March already? Anyway, this is chapter twenty-nine. Please leave a review and tell me what you're thinking of the story so far! As I've said before—if I don't know what I'm doing wrong, I can't get better. Also, as I mentioned last chapter, chapter thirty is going to be a little bit later than usual.**

 **Chapter Twenty-Nine: Rosamund**

After the initial dramma of Dorian discovering his sexuality, he and Lisa became steadily closer, as Dorian thought that they ought to help each other through some of the difficulties of not being straight such a setting.

Dorian also became close with Chaol again, and both of them were quite pleased with that development. It was nice to finally be back together, after so long separated.

And it was through reconnecting with Chaol that Dorian got his first girlfriend—Rosamund.

Rosamund was overall a very pleasing young lady—kind, and gentle, but certainly not a pushover, and very bright. Dorian and she bonded over books, and a few common friends—Chaol and Lisa.

Chaol and Lisa had both known Rosa for years, but somehow, Dorian and Rosamund had never been properly introduced.

Regardless, after an interesting get-together at the library and a few flirtatious comments, Dorian ended up with his first kiss and first official girlfriend.

Initially, Dorian and Chaol had intended to spend the afternoon alone, but Lisa and Rosa had also been there, and decided to sit with the boys.

Dorian and Chaol were immersed in their own little world, discussing a book and what they thought would have made it better, when Lisa and Rosamund sat down next to them.

"Good afternoon, boys! Fancy seeing you here," Lisa smiled. "We were just wandering the aisles and saw you two and just simply had to come say hello!"

Rosamund kept both eyes fixed on Dorian as Chaol responded, "Well then, hello."

"I don't think that Rosa and Dorian have ever been introduced!" Lisa said.

"You might be right," Chaol frowned. "Well, Dorian, this is Rosamund. Rosa, this is Prince Dorian Havilliard, but I'm sure you already knew that."

Rosa smiled softly. "Indeed, I did. But it never hurts to make the introduction formal." Her gaze flitted along Dorian's body, who in turn shifted uncomfortably.

Then, forcing a smile, Dorian said, "It's a pleasure to meet you. Lisa and Chaol have mentioned you before. All good things, I assure you."

"That's lovely to here. So, I take it you enjoy books?" Rosa nodded to the stack beside him.

"Yes, I suppose I do," Dorian smiled at her. "You as well?"

"Yes, but generally more informational texts than fictional ones."

"Really? What do you like to learn about then?"

"Oh, most everything. I do enjoy history, although there aren't many text books here that remain unaltered. I also enjoy various fields of science."

Dorian cocked his head. "Interesting. I like that you enjoy learning. It's very healthy, and speaks wonders about you yourself."

"You flatter me! But it's just a pastime." She gave him a small smile, and Dorian decided he might as well just go along with it.

"If you say so," he said, shooting her a grin.

Rosa put a hand on her chest, blushing slightly.

Dorian saw Chaol roll his eyes, before taking up conversation with Lisa instead.

 _Don't leave me to rot,_ Dorian thought to himself. But he knew there was no getting out of talking to her alone now.

After a long discussion, Dorian and Rosa became aware that both Chaol and Lisa had vanished. Dorian was a little bit upset, but he also realized that before long, people were going to start wondering why he wasn't dating anyone. Rosa would make a perfect girlfriend for him, as much as he hated the idea of using her like that. But really—what other options did he have, if things were really as bad as Lisa had made them sound?

* * *

Dorian sat with Lisa in the library the following afternoon.

"So, how did things go with Rosa last night?" Lisa broke the silence that had been pressing him for information about the two of them.

"Fine," was all Dorian could think of to say.

"And what does 'fine' mean? Are you dating now? Friends? Was there some making out?" She lowered her voice in a suggestive manner.

"Relax, Lisa! It was nothing _too_ intense! But I suppose we are sort of dating, although it's not that big of a deal!"

"Oh! You're getting defensive! Tell me what happened," she pried.

"Fine, fine. There was some 'making out,' but you don't have to make it sound so bad."

"I'm not. I'm just wondering."

"Well, you got your answer."

"And now I want another one—how was it?"

"I don't know! Sloppy. Messy. Weird. I don't get what everyone's talking about." He shrugged slightly. "I didn't totally like it, but I guess I can get behind it. Maybe it's better the second time you try it."

"Nah. You've just got to kiss someone you actually like. Or close your eyes and pretend it's someone you like."

"Really? And how would you know?" Dorian raised an eyebrow at her.

"I've been around the block. I've done things in my day," Lisa said in a grandmother-y sound way.

"Oh, just tell me the truth."

"Fine, fine. I've kissed a few boys here and there. And now maybe I have a girlfriend."

"Really? That's great! I'm so happy for you!" Dorian smiled at his friend. "But didn't you say we should just pretend to be straight?"

"I know what I said, but when you really love someone, you should risk it! I mean, what's the point in living a life without love?"

Dorian sighed slightly. Really—what was the point? He was honestly kind of jealous of her. Afterall, whoever she liked clearly liked her back, if the two of them were willing to be together in a world such as that one.

Him, on the other hand? Not a chance. The guy he liked would never— _could_ never—feel the same way.

* * *

Things began to go downhill for Chaol, particularly later that week. _That_ was when a cousin of Dorian's arrived.

He'd visited in the past, and he'd always been a pain in the ass for both of them. Wreaking havok, tearing things up, but ever a perfect angle around the king and queen and other royals. He was the favorite, the pet, the one the King of Adarlan probably would rather have had as an heir, but behind the backs of all the important men and women of the court, he was an absolute demon.

Roland Havilliard.

This time, unfortunately, unbeknownst to either Chaol or Dorian at the moment, this time this visit was going to be much worse.

 **Chapter Release Date: March 28, 2018**


	30. Chapter 30: A Change of Events

**A/N: Sorry for the slightly late release.**

 **Chapter Thirty: A Change of Events**

It was almost midnight, and Dorian still hadn't fallen asleep.

Roland had said some things earlier that evening that were still crashing around inside his head. It hadn't even been anything _bad_ , but it just made Dorian keep thinking about the fact that he could one day end up like Roland—bitter and alone. He didn't want that for himself, but he could see how he could get there.

But Roland…

The damn kid had been there for only four days, and he had already much overstayed his welcome. In Dorian's book, at least.

Dorian and Chaol had been peacefully minding their own business, eating dinner, when Roland had come barging in and sat down right beside the two of them, heaping his plate with food and inviting himself into their conversation.

"How are you two doing tonight? Well, I hope?" Dorian snorted, as that was in no way true. He doubted the lord cared for anyone but himself. "Good. How've things been? I haven't seen you two in so long! Still dicking around together? I'm surprised. I would've thought that you'd've gotten bored of the princeling by now." Roland jerked his head at Chaol. "You seem like the type of guy who just likes to stick around people until the second they get boring—or get too exciting—and then abandons ship."

"Do you mean you? Because the only one _I_ see here that runs away before they can actually make a human connection is _you_ ," Chaol said through gritted teeth. "Now can you leave us alone? We were actually having a pleasant conversation, despite how shocking may be."

"Oh, I'm so sorry! Am I interrupting one of those, 'Where is this going?' relationship conversations? Let me tell you know: Those only end in disaster!" He said it in a sing-songy, obnoxious voice that Dorian had grown to know and hate.

"Only for you, Roland," Dorian grumbled. "I'm pretty sure it probably has something to do with the fact that your personality is poisonous and you're allergic to commitment."

"And we're not a couple," added Chaol. "And even if we were, just because we're hanging around each other wouldn't mean we were having problems."

Roland, talking over Chaol, said, "Oh! Harsh words for the kid who used to be obsessed with flowers and books! And the one who abandoned his title for some job with a real commitment!" He shot a sneer at Chaol.

"Reading isn't a bad thing!" Dorian retorted. "And actually, being royalty does involve a commitment, but even if it didn't, wanting a real job shouldn't be something to be frowned upon. Now can you please just leave?"

"Why? Are you annoyed with me? Am I hurting your feelings?" Roland put on a fake pout. "What are you going to do about it? Go running home to Mommy?"

"Get a life, will you?" Chaol groaned. "You're such a dick. You know that, right? All you ever do is tear down others, and it's really obnoxious. I bet it's just that you don't want to admit how empty and talentless you really are, you good for nothing son of a bitch."

"You'll pay for that," Roland whispered as he rose from the table, food untouched, and strode out.

"What's he going to do? Tear up the sheets on my mattress?" Chaol asked. Dorian laughed at that.

Unfortunately for Chaol, Roland really did end up getting back at Chaol for the countless things that Chaol had done to the lord over the years in what was probably close to the worst way possible.

Dorian, of course, was completely oblivious to what was going on until Chaol came bursting into his room, eyes red and full of fury.

"That dick sack! That fucking shit bag! I cannot believe he went _that far,_ " Chaol ground out.

Dorian groaned, rubbing his eyes. "What time is it?" he asked.

"Sorry," Chaol muttered, looking down at his feet. "Probably around midnight." He sounded like he felt guilty for waking Dorian up, but not enough so to leave.

Dorian stretched, pushing himself up into a sitting position to look at Chaol. When he saw the look on his friend's face, he wondered aloud, "What happened?" suddenly worried.

"Roland… he… he…" Chaol broke down sobbing.

Dorian rushed over and wrapped his arms around Chaol. "Shh, shh! It's okay! Whatever happened, it'll be okay," he comforted.

When Chaol was finally able to speak again, he whispered, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have bothered you."

"It's fine," Dorian said, passing off his earlier annoyance. Chaol was more important than his sleep. He could do that any day of the week, but right now, Chaol needed him. "Now—what happened?" Perhaps if he knew, he could make Chaol feel better… or, at the very least, help him get to a place where he _could_ feel better.

"Roland slept with Lithaen."

"What?" Dorian yelped. "But I thought she loved you! And you loved her! Why would he do that? I mean, he's an asshole, sure, but that's crossing a line!"

He'd always felt uneasy around Lithaen, but he had never thought that she'd go so far as to practically punch Chaol in the gut emotionally. She had seemed like she cared… at least a little.

"I know. I guess she didn't feel the same way about me, because she certainly looked happy."

"Chaol, I'm so sorry," Dorian murmured as the two sat down on Dorian's bed and Chaol kicked off his shoes. Dorian squeezed his arms tighter around Chaol, rubbing his friend's back.

"There's nothing to be done now."

Dorian nodded at his friend, sympathy coating his every move. They flopped down on top of the covers, Chaol still in Dorian's arms.

The two remained there, talking for several hours until both fell asleep on Dorian's bed.

* * *

Chaol slowly drifted from a hazy state of sleep, and it took him a moment to realize that he was not in his own bed, nor was he in Lithaen's.

 _Lithaen._

Everything from the previous night came rushing back, tearing at his heart and threatening to break down his resolve once again, but he shoved it from his mind as quickly as he could.

Instead, he focused on the beautiful, peaceful, early morning light drifting through the window, and stared down at Dorian. Laying there… he just wanted to stay in this spot forever. It was so peaceful, lying there with Dorian, in a way it never had been with Lithaen.

Lithaen had always seemed to want something from him, even as she slept, but Dorian never did. The prince always just acted content with whatever Chaol did, and realizing that made Chaol feel guilty about leaving the boy behind. Dorian had been the best friend he'd ever had, and he didn't know why he hadn't realized it before.

Dorian had always been so kind to him, and had never made it feel as though Chaol was supposed to be anything other than himself.

 _I just want to lay here until the end of time. Being with Dorian is perfect in a way that it never was with Lithaen. He'd make a good date._ Chaol paused at that thought. _I shouldn't be thinking like that. This is my best friend, and I just broke up with my girlfriend, a woman I was with for more than two years! What's more, he's a boy!_

Chaol shook his head and got up, putting his shoes back on. He didn't want to be there any more. Dorian was too good for him. Too pure. And what Chaol was feeling at the moment was something he shouldn't have been.

As he opened the door, Dorian slowly sat up.

Rubbing his eyes, Dorian groaned, "Where are you going?" as he let out a yawn.

"I've gotta… er… go to practice," Chaol lied. In truth, he just didn't want to be having those kinds of thoughts about Dorian. It was wrong—or so he'd been told.

"You can lie better than that," Dorian mumbled as he flopped back down. "Tell me the truth when you come back, please."

And just like that, he was out like a light once more.

Chaol sighed. Why did everything have to be so confusing?

He wanted to stay with Dorian, but at the same time, he desperately wanted to be somewhere else. His heart felt like it was being shredded into pieces, and Dorian was able to both heal it and crush it beyond repair.

 **Chapter Release Date: April 9, 2017**


	31. Chapter 31: Moving On

**Disclaimer: I got the idea for this chapter title from an Asking Alexandria some by the same name.**

 **Chapter Thirty-One: Moving On**

Dorian lay in his bed, silent and thoughtful.

So Lithaen and Chaol had finally broken up.

Huh.

He'd never really expected them to last, but he supposed he'd sort of just got so used to them being an item that it was strange that they _weren't_ anymore. They'd just always been together—at least, that was how it felt to Dorian—and now it somehow seemed wrong that they weren't together anymore, despite his relief that he wouldn't have to put up with Lithaen.

He was happy that they weren't together. Well, not exactly _happy,_ he supposed. That was a bit of a blunt way of putting it. He was just glad they were no longer in a romantic relationship. They'd never seemed particularly right for each other.

And besides, Lithaen had never really treated Chaol as her equal. She always seemed to have another agenda, another reason for being with him, even if that was never strikingly apparent in her daily actions.

She was like a viper waiting to strike, and you could never be entirely sure when or how she would, but at least now that she had, Dorian could hope that she would not do it again. Because Chaol wouldn't really be stupid enough to go running back after that, right?

He crossed his fingers hoping that Chaol would have the brains to figure out that she was poisonous for himself, because he knew that nothing he himself could say would stop Chaol if that kid got it in his head that he should give Lithaen another shot.

But regardless, she hadn't been good for Chaol. She hadn't loved him the way he deserved to be loved, Dorian thought. Chaol deserved the best, because he was a good person. And that was why he was glad that Chaol and Lithaen weren't together anymore… right?

Because Chaol had loved her far more than she was ever going to love him. Because she seemed as though she had ulterior motives, a separate agenda, a plot hidden beneath her frills and curls. She'd never seemed authentic, real, and right. She'd seemed false; therefore Dorian had a justified reason to not particularly want the two of them together, besides his love for Chaol, of course. Right?

 _Who am I kidding?_ Dorian sighed to himself. _This is just because of how I feel toward him. He's never going to feel the same way about me, so I should just stop hoping. He probably sees me as a child. But I do care about him being happy, and he was never going to be that with her._

He paused, glancing around his room.

He wondered why Chaol had come here. Afterall, they hadn't been friends for very long since their long period of not speaking. Sure, it had been nearly a year, but Chaol had to have become close with some other guards, or others who lived in the city. _Should have,_ really.

So why had he gone to Dorian? Did Chaol, perhaps, still care about Dorian the way he used to?

 _Nah,_ Dorian thought. _He probably just didn't feel comfortable crying to anyone else. I do hope he's alright. Even if Lithaen wasn't great for him, I want him to be happy, and she made him happy—at least when she was pretending to be nice. I think this has really messed him up._

And it was true. Lithaen had probably been fairly toxic for Chaol in the long run, even if he hadn't noticed it, and her sleeping with Roland was fine proof of it, but Chaol had been happy with her, at least while it lasted, and Dorian wanted that for Chaol. He wanted Chaol to truly enjoy life, to be jovial and be happy, but he wanted it to be with someone that really cared about the young guard, and not someone bound to chew him up and spit him out again. He wanted it to be real.

He wanted to be happy, too, but he knew how unlikely that was. But the least he could do was try, both for himself and for Chaol.

And so that was how both of them stayed—searching for a purpose, a chance to have hope and love and joy, and meaning. Searching for a reason to go on.

And neither made much progress, but as spring passed on to summer and Chaol turned twenty, he started to see that perhaps Lithaen hadn't been as good for him as he'd thought. That didn't stop him from missing her, though. It had, after all, been more than two years that they dated.

And slowly, as summer faded to fall, Chaol realized that she'd never loved him as much as he had her. Perhaps she hadn't loved him at all, if he was to believe the rumors spread by the court women. They said she'd just been staying with him because he'd once been close with Dorian, and because he had strong relationships with many higher ranking royals. Honestly, most of that gossip probably had no merit. But it had to have started somewhere.

These new rumors sent Chaol further back on his road to recovery from heartbreak, because they began to break apart everything he'd thought had been true for two years, but no matter; he stood strong and marched on. And, through a little help from his newly reacquired best friend, he started to make some progress again.

So, as fall turned to winter and Dorian turned seventeen, Chaol began to recover again, and by the time it was spring of the following year, both boys seemed to have completely turned around from where they'd been previously.

Dorian was finally happy, and he'd made extensive progress in his magical training—even though he'd never tell anyone about it—and he was closer with both Lisa and Chaol than perhaps he'd ever been before.

And he began to start liking Rosamund, too. Not in a romantic way like he'd hoped, but he began to enjoy her company, even if he didn't feel the same way about her that she did about him. He was also vaguely aware that to her, he was being just as Lithaen had been to Chaol, and he didn't like that much. So, he did as many teenagers naturally do: He ignored it completely and shoved it to the very backmost corner of his mind, telling himself that what he was doing wasn't exactly right, but it wasn't like he was doing it for vain purposes. He just didn't want to be cast to the streets by his father, or worse. He told himself that made it okay, but somewhere, deep inside him, he knew that wasn't entirely true.

 **Chapter Release Date: April 14, 2018**


	32. Chapter 32: Number One

**Chapter Thirty-Two: Number One**

"Sir, we've got to do something about these rebels from Ellywe! We can't just keep ignoring them any long!" one of the court men was wailing at the king.

"Yes, that is acknowledged. But it is also acknowledged that our forces have other places to be, and if we spread them too thin, there will be nothing that we can logically achieve, whether it be controlling rebels or conquering nations." The king shook his head, looking tired, as though the war was weighing on him heavily.

Dorian wanted to yell at him that he wouldn't have so much to worry about if he could just leave his conquest aside and instead seek peace and harmony, but really—how likely was it that the savage King of Adarlan listen to _that_ after slaughtering millions on the pretense that they had been practicing magic, even if it was incredibly clear that they could have done no such thing?

Dorian suppressed a sigh as he continued to listen to the politicians argue back and forth about what they could reasonably do and what their efforts should be mainly focused on. None of them had any logical tactics, nothing that would honestly work. But then again—the King of Adarlan had proven again and again that he could beat the odds, beat what was expected of him. How else would he have been able to tear down some of the strongest armies in the world without so much as blinking an eye?

He grimaced as his father turned to him.

"And what do you have to say on the matter? Should we focus more on stopping the rebels?"

"I think it's silly for us to go on with this war," Dorian muttered.

"I'm sorry. What was that? It's impolite to mumble, Dorian," his father scolded. "You should know this by now."

"I know. I apologize, Your Majesty. I said that—" Dorian paused. Could he afford to restate what he'd just said? He decided that perhaps he could. "I said that I think it's silly for us to keep fighting this war. All we're doing is creating misery and unrest with so many people. And for what? Money? Power? Our country was doing just fine before you decided that we needed more. We didn't have to go out of our way to create suffering and unhappiness with so many people. So no, I don't think that our forces should go to stopping the rebels." He grimaced. He probably shouldn't have said all of that, and the king would make sure he knew it in a bit.

The King of Adarlan opened his mouth, looking mildly enraged. "Young man! I—"

Unfortunately, the king's scolding was cut off by the door being flung open by a page boy. He was out of breath with wide eyes and sweat pouring down his face.

"I'm so sorry to interrupt," he began, panting, "but someone's just been killed!"

A hush fell over the group of men. They all glanced at each other, all clearly shocked.

"I was told to come here immediately by the queen. She said that I needed to interrupt, no matter what was being discussed!" He paused. "You see, it's Your Majesty's brother that's been killed—the father of Lord Roland Havilliard!"

Gasps. How could that man be dead? And worse, why was he _killed_?

* * *

Neither of those questions were answered. It was not discovered why the king's brother had been killed, nor who did it, nor what their connection to anything was, nor why the king's brother had been the target.

All that could be speculated was that it was probably an act of terrorism. That it was meant to send a message to the king himself.

It was on that assumption, therefore, that the king decided that perhaps the other councilmen had been right and decided to devote more of the forces to forcing the rebels to conform.

And as all of this was done, the rest of the court members sat on their hands and hoped that they wouldn't be next.

Dorian, on the other hand, could be often found beside Chaol, whispering back and forth about various conspiracies, various reasons why this might have happened. It was scary to think that something like this had happened in their own palace, so all they could do was pretend as though they were fine.

One afternoon, about a month or two after the murder had occurred, the two were, as expected, sitting in the library. They sat silently, reading, but moments before had been deep in conversation about the murder again. Chaol, seeing as he was the Captain of the Guard's apprentice, had been charged with helping investigate, and a few new pieces of evidence had turned up recently, so, naturally, the two boys wished to converse about it.

Now, Brullo was striding forward, coming ever closer.

Chaol, who was not supposed to talk about the investigation with anyone outside of the people looking into it and the highest ranking officials, did his best not to look guilty.

Brullo stood before the boys for a second before clearing his throat. "Chaol? May I speak to you in private?"

"Why?" Chaol asked, surprised. "Am I in trouble?"

"No," Brullo said stiffly. "Not exactly."

Dorian and Chaol glanced at each other. That didn't sound all too reassuring.

"Whatever it is," Chaol responded, "you can say it in front of Dorian. He's the Crown Prince, so not much information should be withheld from him, and he's my best friend, so if it has to do with me directly, then I don't care if he knows or not."

"All right," Brullo frowned. "The Captain of the Guard has… passed. You have been named the new one."

Chaol's eyes widened. "Wait… Are you serious? How did it happen?"

"We don't know yet, although there is some evidence it may be related to the murder of the king's brother. Regardless, you were his sole apprentice and he has named you in his will as the young man he would like to replace him." He patted Chaol on the back. "This is a lot of responsibility, but I'm sure that you can handle it. You're stronger than most of the other boys on the force your age."

"Why did he have a will? Wasn't he only like 40 or so?" Dorian asked foolishly.

"He had one for exactly this reason," Brullo clarified. "The Captain of the Guard before him was shot down in a duel when he was 32. And the man before him was killed on his second day when he was just 25 during a skirmish between the royal guard and some townsfolk. And the man before him—"

"No, no, I get the point," Dorian said, suddenly not extremely excited about Chaol's new position.

"Anyway," Brullo said, "I just thought I'd come and tell you myself. Jamie wanted to, but she's got a lot on her hands with cleaning this up."

Then, without any further comment, the Weapons Master walked right on out.

Chaol turned to face Dorian.

"Oh Gods! I'm the new Captain!" Chaol was grinning so much that Dorian had a hard time being concerned for his friend. "Isn't this great?"

Dorian forced a smile, shoving his worries down into the pit of his stomach. "Yes. Yes, it is."

 **Chapter Release Date: April 21, 2018**


	33. Chapter 33: Crushed Hopes

**A/N: Do you guys realize that it's been almost exactly a year since I joined FFN? Yeah. Time flies, doesn't it? I can't believe how long I've been here! I mean, one year isn't a lot, but it feels like it really shouldn't have been that much already.**

 **Warning: *spoiler alert* Chaol says some mean things about being gay.**

 **Chapter Thirty-Three: Crushed Hopes**

Dorian was parallel reading with Lisa at the crack of dawn the following morning. He hadn't been able to sleep, so he'd come down there, only to find Lisa already in his favorite spot. But he was happy to see her, because it meant that he didn't have to be alone.

After some time of reading in silence, Lisa broke it by saying, "Alright, Dorian. What's got your head in a tangle? I know how you are; you never get up this early unless you can't sleep, and you never can't sleep without anxiety or unhappiness backing it, and you're never anxious or unhappy without a reason. Come on—spill."

Dorian let out a dramatic sigh and glanced at her. "Well, you have to promise not to tell anyone any part of this."

"Cross my heart," Lisa responded.

"Fine, then. Chaol's been offered the post of Captain of the Guard."

"What? That's incredible! Isn't that what he's always wanted?" Lisa smiled, then paused, and finally frowned. "Why are you upset about that, though?"

"Well, I'm not upset about that directly. But, I mean, it's so unsafe, and he'll be so busy. I mean, my real reasons behind being upset are kind of selfish. I mean, sure, he's going to be in harm's way far more than he ever was before, but all of his time is going to be taken up by this! I mean, it's a full time job! We'll never get to hang out anymore, and then I'll only have you, and I don't want things to be like they were before. I love you and all, but Chaol is my longest running friend and last time he left me it was hell. I know… I'm sorry, I know it's bad. I should just be happy for him, shouldn't I?"

"Yes and no. You're entitled to your own emotions, and you shouldn't feel guilty about feeling them. You want your friend; there's no crime in that. And think of it this way: He'll be doing what he loves, so he'll be happier. That should mean he'll be nicer and in a better mood all together!" Lisa paused, surveying Dorian. "But that's not all of it, is it? If this were just you worrying about your friendship, you'd be able to see past the pretenses of him not having time for you anymore, since you know he's come to his senses and would never do that again."

Dorian grimaced. "I guess I…" He stopped for a moment. "You can absolutely not repeat this to anyone, Lisa!" he said, realizing he had to if he was going to continue, and she nodded. "Okay. I sort of have a… well, a bit of a crush on him," Dorian lowered his voice. "And I'm just worried that now that we won't have any time to spend together it'll just be one of those hopeless, one-sided things. I mean, it already would be, but somehow that just makes it seem worse. He'll start to drift, even if we remain friends, and that'll be hell for me!" He looked away. "Like I said—selfish, single-minded reasons."

Lisa shrugged. "Yes, but everyone has those thoughts. The point is that you recognise their selfishness. And Dorian, even if he takes this job, even if all of his time is consumed by it, Chaol will always make room for you in his life. He saw what it did to you before, and he'd never do that again. He loves you, even if it's not the same as the way you do. And yeah, nothing will ever happen, and you're gonna have to live with that, but you're definitely still going to stay friends. I know you probably won't believe this, but you will stay close. Telling you that is the best I can do for you."

* * *

Dorian strode through the garden after lunch, examining the trees and the roses, all starting to get new leaves again.

He was so intent on his examinations that he didn't see someone approaching, and nearly collided head on with Chaol.

"Woah there, buddy," Chaol smirked. "Watch where you're going, or you'll trip and fall right into your grave!"

Dorian just rolled his eyes. "Okay. Sorry for walking into you." Chaol nodded at him, and they fell into place beside one another. "How are you doing?"

"Oh, all right. Today, we're mostly just trying to get things into order. Next week I'm going to be sworn in as the new captain. I'm really excited, but there's so much to do in such a short amount of time, and it's a little overwhelming!"

"Oh, I'm sorry. Is there anything I can do to help?"

The boys went on discussing the inauguration to take place for a few minutes as they wandered the gardens until Dorian thought of something.

"Hey, Chaol?"

"Yes?"

"What do you think of gay people?" he asked.

Chaol frowned. "You mean like homosexuals?" Dorian nodded briefly. "I don't know. I guess I just find it kind of weird, you know? Like, why would someone choose to be like that? I suppose I don't mind people being like that, but I hate seeing it. I'd just rather they didn't rub it in my face, what they've chosen to do with their lives. You know?"

Dorian nodded again, trying to hide how hurt he felt. How could Chaol think like that? Why did he think that love was a choice?

He opened his mouth to voice his opinion, but Chaol was already speaking again.

"Why would you bring that up? It's just a gross topic." Chaol wrinkled his nose. "Anyway, gotta run. Things to do!" He winked at Dorian and then raced off.

That left the young prince standing in a field of flowers feeling more alone than ever as he realized that his best friend was never going to accept him. The other boy might have said that he "didn't mind it," but the reality was that everything else he'd said spoke of something else entirely.

Dorian fought back tears as he strode inside, much more upset than he had been earlier.

 **Chapter Release Date: April 28, 2018**


	34. Chapter 34: Rosa Rejects

**A/N: I've been on FFN for a whole year now, as of six days ago! I don't know how it's been that long already. And it's been a year and two days since I uploaded the first chapter of** _ **Vampires Don't Exist**_ **. Also (because I didn't post yesterday),** _ **may the fourth be with you**_ **. And today is "revenge of the fifth." Anyway, enough Star Wars puns.**

 **Chapter Thirty-Four: Rosa Rejects**

Dorian was sprawled across his couch as Rosa dramatically recounted her brutal experience with one of her long-time best friends. The two had had some argument, and now Rosa was worried that they'd never be friends again. It reminded Dorian of how he'd felt those times that Chaol had seemed to vanish from his life. He was sad for her, but she seemed to be making it into something much larger than it was. From the sound of it, it had something to do with her hair and her friend's skirt, and really—how bad could it have possibly been?

"And _then_ she lit me on fire!" Rosa groaned.

 _Never mind. I guess it really was bad,_ Dorian thought to himself.

"She says it wasn't on purpose, but I swear it was! Anyway, then we were in a frenzy because I was on fire and we were outside, so I did what everyone always says to do and rolled around on the ground and my dress was completely _ruined_ and she was _laughing_ for God's sake! I mean really—what have I ever done to her?" Rosa gave an indignant huff. "So she took me to the infirmary because she's really 'such a good friend' that she'd do that for me and then, honestly, she just left me there! She's lucky that I wasn't seriously injured, otherwise she'd be getting a piece of me!"

Dorian just shook his head. He hadn't been listening to most of it—as bad as that sounded—but he was suddenly concerned.

"Why would she do that to you?"

"I don't know. She says that I've been neglecting her, or something, and that I always get the guys she wants. And she thinks that I stole her family heirloom, which I didn't. Okay, maybe I did, but it was for a good reason!"

"Shouldn't you tell someone that she did it on purpose? She could get arrested."

"Yes, well, she _is_ my best friend, and it would look bad if I had a best friend who was also an arsonist, right?"

 _Lord,_ Dorian thought. _When did Rosa get so self-centered? She wasn't always like this. I remember in the beginning, she was really nice. She always knew how to make me happy, and she was happy with me, but I don't think that's the case anymore._

"You have your thinky-face," Rosa commented. She sat down next to him. "What's up?"

Her dress flowed around her feet, swaying as she sat, and Dorian noticed some stitch marks on it that hadn't been there the last time he'd seen her in this dress, along with a faint scorch mark in one corner. Was this that gown she'd been so worried about?

"I just feel like you're not happy with me. No offense, but most of the time we spend together now you're just complaining about something, and it's never me, but I feel like you want it to be me. Did I do something wrong?"

Rosa grumbled. "Do you have to make my day any worse?" Dorian raised an eyebrow at her. "Fine. I feel like you don't love me."

"Rosa, of course I love you!" Dorian countered, feeling guilty that he didn't mean it the way she wanted him to. "Of course I do," he repeated, as if that would make him feel more sure of himself.

"No, you don't. We've been dating for more than a year now, and we haven't had sex at all. And at first I believed your whole thing about just 'wanting to take things slow' and 'not being ready,' but I don't think I do anymore. I feel like you don't _ever_ want to have sex. And when I first realized that, I was just like, 'Whatever, sex doesn't necessarily mean love.' But you don't pay attention to me." She took a breath, and he said nothing. " And look, you don't even try to say otherwise!" She gave him a look. "But sure, I can look past that. You're the prince, you're busy, you don't have time for all the little things. But whenever I try to make plans for us, you always seem to be busy, but once again, you're the prince, so I'd be fine, except for the fact that we've only gone out on _four_ dates. Four! In a _year_! And besides, when you get to the bottom of it, all of those things make it seem like maybe you don't care for me the way I care for you."

"I'm sorry," Dorian murmured, interrupting her. "If you'd said this before, I would have tried to be better. You need to tell me when something isn't working, because otherwise _this_ won't work."

"No, Dorian. ' _This'_ won't work no matter what. You don't love me, but I love you, and I want someone who cares about me the way I do about them. You have to understand that, Dorian. You have to." Her voice broke.

Dorian looked at his feet. "Yeah. I guess I do. I wanted this to work so bad." He wished so badly that he could say more, but he didn't know what he would. He couldn't say how much he loved dating her, because that was a lie, but he did love her company—at least when she wasn't being a self-centered diva.

"It's not going to. Give up on us, Dorian, because I have, and I know I've always been more interested in this than you have."

Rosamund stood from the couch and walked to the door. "I love you, Dorian Havilliard," she said, "and that much is never going to change. But this is the end. Of everything. I don't want to talk to you again."

And with that, she strode from the room leaving Dorian devastated. He'd enjoyed her company, even if he hadn't loved her, and he was pretty sure this meant the end of not only their relationship dating, but as friends. She hadn't even _attempted_ to give the whole, "We'll still be friends!" speech. Damn.

Then he paused with a realization. Rosamund was one of Lisa's best friends. Not the one that had lit Rosa on fire, of course, but a long, close friend. They'd known each other since they'd been born, and their families were close friends, too. What if this meant that he lost Lisa too? He couldn't lose two of the only three friends he had in one day. That was too much.

He scampered from the room.

He couldn't be in there anymore.

He felt like he was suffocating.

He didn't know where he was going; his feet seemed to have a mind of their own.

Finally, he realized that he was outside of Chaol's room.

He stopped, and almost turned around. _He's probably sleeping right now. He doesn't want to listen to my bullshit; he just wants to sleep. He's so busy now. I should just go._

But, instead of listening to common sense, he went right back to the door and knocked softly. He heard a thud from the other side, and then footsteps.

Chaol opened the door, rubbing his eyes. "Sorry, I was just taking a quick nap. What can I do for—Dorian!" His eyes fell on who was actually in front of him. "What are you doing here? It's, like, the middle of the ni—okay, so it's only 9:00, but still!"

"Rosa just broke up with me," Dorian said hopelessly.

"Oh my God! I'm so sorry!" Chaol opened the door wider for Dorian. "Come in, come in. I know what she meant to you. Is there anything I can do to help?"

"No, I don't think so. Just being here is fine."

Chaol nodded. "I'll get you some tea. Make yourself at home on the couch."

After that, the two stayed up late into the night, talking, comparing breakup experiences.

The whole situation reminded Dorian of a year and a half ago, when Chaol had come rushing in to Dorian's room and the roles had been reversed.

Chaol was much better than Dorian had been, being so kind and gentle, and when the two fell asleep on Chaol's bed, Chaol didn't seem to mind at all.

 **Chapter Release Date: May 5, 2018**


	35. Chapter 35: Number Four

**A/N: Hey guys! This one's going to be relatively short; I hope that's alright!**

 **Chapter Thirty-Five: Number Four**

Dorian cracked an eye open, light streaming in through an open window. At first, he was slightly disoriented, but quickly remembered the previous night's events. His heart fell a little bit. He was going to miss Rosa, but even more than that, he was worried about Lisa. What would happen with their friendship?

 _Just relax for now,_ Dorian told himself. _Take it easy. You deserve a break._

Dorian snuggled up next to Chaol's warm body, closing his eyes again. Unfortunately, that action lead to Chaol's own eyes fluttering open.

"Eh," Chaol groaned. "What time is it?"

"Probably around seven or so, judging by the light quality," Dorian responded sleepily.

"How long you been up?" Chaol grunted, rubbing his eyes and sitting up.

"Just a few minutes. Why?"

"Oh, no reason. Just wondering. You know, this happens far too often."

"What does? This? Because, not really," Dorian responded. "It's only happened once, other than now, and that was a while ago. Now lay back down right now. It's cold, and it's a weekend. You don't have to go to work." He gave Chaol a pout, hoping it might persuade his friend to stay.

"Actually," Chaol sighed, "I do. But fine." He flopped back down next to Dorian with a small smile on his face. "I'm glad we're friends. You're a lot of fun to hang out around. And I'm sorry that I pushed you away when we were younger; I was stupid and so focused on everything else around me that I couldn't really focus on me or you."

"It's fine." It wasn't fine. "What matters is that now you've come to your senses." That part was true, at least.

Chaol nodded. "I suppose so." He smiled at Dorian and flicked the prince's nose. "You're adorable."

"No! Really? I totally hadn't noticed." Dorian responded much more boldly than he usually would have. "But honestly, thanks. I know you're not one to hand out compliments readily."

"I'm blaming it on being tired."

"Whatever," Dorian smirked.

At that point, a page boy rushed in.

"Captain! Captain! I'm so sorry to bother you, but someone's just been killed! Your presence is required at once!"

"Really?" Chaol looked shocked as he sat up. Dorian realized that this probably didn't look too decent to the page boy, but the kid hadn't seemed to notice yet. "That's four now, correct?"

"Yes," he responded. "If you mean the murders of court members, yes."

"Do you have any details?" Chaol bit his lip.

"Not really. It follows the same pattern as the others and the body was found in the person's room. I haven't been told who it was—only that you had ten minutes to get down there before Brullo was firing you. I couldn't tell if he was being serious or not about that last part."

Chaol snorted lightly. "Yeah, it can be hard to tell with him. Go tell him that I'm on my way, would you, Luke?"

"Sure." Luke nodded. Then he frowned, as though only just then realizing that Dorian was laying in Chaol's bed. "Um… are you two… like are you…" the boy stumbled through his words, as though not quite able to say what he meant.

"No, no," Dorian quickly clarified, feeling his face growing more red than it already was. He'd been hoping that he could go unnoticed. "This isn't what it looks like at all! We were just—"

"No, okay, I get it," Luke jumped in, as though also embarrassed by the situation. Then he quickly added, "Your Highness," and backed out of the room.

The door closed behind him slowly, and Chaol and Dorian sat in silence for a second afterward.

"Well," Chaol said. "That was… interesting."

"Yes," agreed Dorian. "I do hope he won't go spreading rumors about us."

"Nah, Luke's not like that. He'll probably just assume something and keep it to himself. I just hope that what he assumes is what you tried to tell him—the truth."

Dorian nodded. "You should probably get going though," Dorian reminded his friend.

"Right, yes. Alright. Shoot. I wonder who was killed? This is just starting to get out of hand. We need to catch this killer—or group of them—before anyone else gets hurt."

"I agree," Dorian said nervously. "Do you have any leads? Any at all?" It had been about five months since the first murder, and Dorian was pretty sure that there had been no progress in finding the killer—or killer _s_.

"We have plenty." So maybe he'd been wrong. "None of which have lead us _anywhere_ useful." Or not. "They're all just dead ends. Whoever's doing this… they're good. It's really quite frustrating."

"I bet. This is why I'm glad I don't have a job like yours. Sure, it's thrilling and you get to protect people, but it seems so dangerous and very scary. I know you're just going to say I'm a wimp, but I don't think I could handle it."

"Sometimes, Dorian, I wonder if _I_ can handle it."

With that, Chaol got up and dressed quickly, flying out the door an instant later with a, "Goodbye," and a, "I might not see you again today," and "Feel free to help yourself to anything you can find to eat, but don't have it all!"

Dorian just nodded along, and when his friend was gone, he threw on his clothes and grabbed an apple, walking out the door. When he was outside, he realized, with much enthusiasm, that he had no plans at all that day and could spend it doing whatever he wanted. He realized that was probably more than a little irresponsible, what with what had happened—he should have been _doing_ something—but he needed a little time to himself.

Unfortunately, there was probably going to be an emergency council meeting on all of what was happening, but that he could live with. For once, it was for a decent reason, even if they'd probably get nowhere discussing it.

 **Chapter Release Date: May 18, 2018**


	36. Chapter 36: A Conversation With the King

**Chapter Thirty-Six: A Conversation With the King**

Dorian and Lisa sat in the library. But really—what else could one expect of them? It had been a few months since Rosa and Dorian broke up, and Lisa didn't really seem to mind—her only request was that neither of them make her choose.

Lisa, after several hours of sitting in silence, turned to Dorian, saying, "So, Dorian, I've heard a bunch of rumors."

"I'm not dating—"

"No, it's not about you," Lisa interjected. "I know you're not dating that bimbo. What was her name again?"

"I think it was Kaltain, but I'm not positive." He sighed. "This is starting to get annoying—I just keep getting asked, and I've only met her once, but she's a complete idiot!"

"Oh, God. I've run into her _multiple_ times, and she's a ninny-headed attention whore! Honestly." Lisa shook her head. "That's why I knew you weren't dating here. I mean, other than the obvious." They both giggled.

"But you had something you wanted to say?"

"Ah, yes," Lisa said. "Thanks for reminding me. You know how I can get off on a tangent, and then I have no idea where I started, and soon enough we'll be talking about dresses or something. Speaking of dresses, who makes your mother's? They're lovely!"

"Lisa!"

"Right, sorry. Er… right! Okay, so I've heard a lot of rumors about the murders, and I have no idea which ones are true and which ones aren't." Her eyes sparkled with interest. "I mean, I've heard that Celaena Sardothien is behind them, I've heard that they're serial killings, and I've even heard that Duke Perrington has turned on your father and is trying to remove his foundations. And that it's just someone wanting to bring down the king, of course, which is the most popular. Do you have any insights? Anything you'd be able to tell me? Because I really do want to know."

"I really don't have any clue, nor does anyone else, I'm afraid. At least, that's what I believe. The only one of those that I can tell you is—without a doubt—false is that Duke Perrington is behind them. He'd never be able to do something like that." Dorian lowered his voice slightly. "I mean, really—he's just a lord! He's completely loyal to my father and, to be honest, he's completely useless."

Lisa nodded. "Alright then. You've got to have a theory, even if you think that one's false."

Dorian frowned. "I really don't," he responded. "Why are you asking all of this?"

Lisa huffed. "No one is willing to tell me anything about these! I'm just trying to piece together what's going on, and I figured that you might have some idea."

Dorian shrugged. "I'm just as in the dark as you are. And I'm guessing that—since I can't get anything out of anyone—either no one wants things getting out to the public, or no one actually knows. I'm guessing that it's probably a bit of a mixture of both." Because it would be devastating if anyone knew the truth, that the capital was suffering, that they were weak—that wouldn't end well—and because, as Chaol had said, whoever was behind the scenes, pulling the strings, was very, very good.

* * *

"Hello, Chaol."

"Your Majesty," Chaol bowed.

"Have you made any progress yet?" the King of Adarlan asked, seeming bored.

"No, Your Majesty. I apologize, but we have nothing to go on. It's like this person doesn't exist. Without some more help, we're never going to figure this out. We need more people."

"I don't think it's necessary at this point. I'm sure that your men have what it takes and will get this all sorted out in time." The king sounded calm—almost too much so.

"Sir?" Chaol frowned. "With all due respect, I think that it is necessary. My men are hard working, but we haven't had something like this before. People are going to keep dying until we solve this, so I think that we need to do something. Your Majesty," he added belatedly. "And besides—if the public catches wind of this, there _will_ be issues. They should know—if they're at risk—but since they aren't, we don't need them losing faith in this organization. We have to put this operation down before that happens."

"That is something I'm worried about. If they think that we can't even keep ourselves safe, then there could be upheaval. When people start to think that they themselves may be at risk, it changes the point of view from when they thought that it was just those around them." The king gave a sigh. "I want you to quench all rumors going around surrounding this matter. Anyone that does not need to know about this won't."

Chaol cocked his head. "Your Majesty, I'm not sure if that's what we should be worrying about at this second. I mean, I think it's important to make sure that the people have faith in their government, but we shouldn't be devoting our resources to stopping _rumors_ rather than stopping murders!" Why wouldn't the king understand that?

"Whomever is doing this wants attention. If we don't give it to them, they will stop."

"But sir, you can't know that for sure! We have to keep working against them! With all due respect, Your Majesty, we can't just quit working on solving the mystery to focus on _gossip_!"

"Chaol Westfall." The king's voice was soft and deadly. "Do you value your job?"

Chaol stiffened. He realized that he was treading on dangerous ground. "Yes, sir. I do. Very much, in fact."

"Good. Then I suggest you do not arguing when you are given an order."

"Is that an order, Your Majesty?"

"It is. I am ordering you to put effort into stopping the rumors before stopping the criminal." The king paused, and Chaol wondered if he was allowed to leave yet. "Before you go—please don't mention this conversation. To anyone." The king gave a false smile. "Am I understood?"

Chaol pursed his lips. "Yes, sir. I understand." He gave small bow and marched out.

That didn't sit well with him. Not at all. Why didn't the king want him investigating this any further? What could he possibly have to hide? What could he possibly think was so important that he was willing to risk the lives of the men and women in his court instead of abandoning it? How could he lay down those lives because of some ulterior agenda of his own?

And what, in the name of Wyard, what was he not telling them?

 **Chapter Release Date: May 19, 2018**


	37. Chapter 37: Just Sweep It Under the Rug

**A/N: Hey, sorry for not posting last week. I got so caught up in everything that it totally just slipped my mind—these last few weeks of school have been really stressful (end of the school year), but I should be back consistently all summer. Since I missed last week, I'll post chapter 38 tomorrow.**

 **Chapter Thirty-Seven: Just Sweep It Under the Rug**

Chaol flopped down on his bed with a groan. That had been an interesting meeting. What was with the king? Sure, the man had always seemed a bit iffy—he had, after all, slaughtered millions—but this was something different. This was a problem in the middle of his own court and he was refusing to do anything about it.

Was it fear? Did he not want to get involved because he was worried about being the next target?

Or, did he think that by ignoring the problem, he could make it go away altogether, the way that teenagers did with homework?

Or, did he, perhaps, have something to do with it? Could the king do that? Murder members of his own court? Sabotage his own government in a ploy to… what? Gain more power?

 _No, don't be silly,_ Chaol told himself. _The king loves his subjects, even if he is a power hungry maniac._

But was it really so far from believable? After everything the King of Adarlan had done, could Chaol really not believe that perhaps that man had gone behind the scenes to get rid of the people he disliked, people who had wronged him?

Chaol wasn't sure of any of it.

But then, maybe it was just him being twitchy. The king probably was just worried and didn't want things getting out to the public to worry everyone _else_.

Chaol rubbed his face. It had been such a long day.

He felt like this job was just becoming more and more about guarding the king's secrets—not about guarding the people—now he wasn't even going to be able to keep working on what he wanted to be working on. What we wanted to be working on was catching the lunatic killing everyone, wanted to stop what was going on so that people would be safe, but now the king wouldn't even allow him to do _that_. He was expected to just lock people's lips and seal the gateways to the castle and keep people from knowing things that at some point they really should know.

 _Maybe I should go to the library, or outside to get some fresh air. I've been cooped up all day doing work._

And that was that—the rest of Chaol's night was decided. Of course, there wasn't much of it left—it was already 11:00.

 _I have no free time anymore,_ he thought as he started to walk to the library. _But that's alright. I like what I do, so I shouldn't complain. And it's not like I'd have free time if I was still a lord, either._

As he pushed open the door to the library, he began to wonder if perhaps Dorian was there. They hadn't talked in a little while and he was wondering how the boy was doing after his breakup with Rosa.

Dorian always seemed to have way more free time than Chaol did, which was curious, but Chaol was pretty sure it was because the prince liked to ditch his responsibilities in favor of reading.

The poor kid was so bright and kind, and would make a great king some day, but Chaol was worried that he'd hate it. He had never been meant for a life like that. But it wasn't something that Dorian could escape the way Chaol had—at least not without giving the crown to his little brother, but that would have disastrous results.

Chaol was still pondering Dorian's future life as he wandered through the isles. He came to the back of the library, a spot that few people ever ventured anymore, and decided to see what sort of books he could find. He'd read most of the ones in the earlier sections of the library—just because he had no free time _now_ didn't mean he'd never had any free time.

He flipped through a book with no title on the binding, and discovered why it had been hidden back here—it seemed to contain spells. He glanced around him, making sure that no one had seen, and shoved it back onto the shelf.

As he turned to leave, his foot brushed against something on the floor, the metal tip of his boot causing a soft clunking sound. It was as though whatever was beneath there was hollow.

He knelt down and knocked on the floor. It was definitely hollow under there.

Chaol frowned slightly. That was not on the castle blueprints. He knew because he'd spent hours studying them, trying to figure out how the killer was getting in.

He paused, glancing around him. There was no one there. Then he looked back down at the floor.

He knew he shouldn't, but his curiosity got the better of him. He felt around the the rug on the floor. He lifted it up, wondering, an ominous feeling building, and underneath there was a faint line through the wood.

Chaol tossed the rug all the way back and ran his fingers over the edge. He gave a small push on it and felt the large panel creak beneath his fingers. There was a small divot on one edge that was only an inch or so wide. He decided to push it—because what else would he do?

From the edges of the panel began to seep a blackness that was utter and complete. But a few spots of wood remained untouched. Those spots slowly began to become more defined, as though they were making themselves clearer, and morphed in color from the dull brown of the wood to an electric blue that cast an eerie glow across Chaol's face.

He froze. Whatever this was, it wasn't something he should be messing with, and it certainly wasn't supposed to be in the palace—especially since it seemed to have some form of magic in it.

The odd symbols seemed glow more intensely as Chaol stared at them, and he felt as though they were pulsing. He took a step back. He should get out of here.

The air around Chaol was beginning to cool, and so he decided that perhaps he should stop whatever was going on.

Unfortunately, being someone that had never done—or even seen—magic, he had no idea what to do, so he grabbed the rug and threw it over the door-like sheet of wood.

There was a brief gust of wind, and then the temperature returned to normal. The black at the edges of the rug faded, and the light shining through it vanished.

He needed to show Dorian this. Whatever it was, he wasn't sure what to do about it, and he was had a feeling that Dorian would.

 **Chapter Release Date: June 2, 2018**


	38. Chapter 38: Voices and Doors

**Chapter Thirty-Eight: Voices and Doors**

"Dorian! Dorian, wake up!"

Dorian sat up bolt right, startled by whoever was shaking him. "What time is it? Why are you in my rooms in the middle of the night? Who are you?" the prince yelped, startled.

"It's me! Dorian get up!"

Dorian squinted through the darkness, and was eventually able to make out the vague form of a young man. He rubbed his eyes, and realized that the man was Chaol.

"Chaol?" he ground out. "What are you doing up at this hour? There isn't even a _/hint/_ of light outside! What time is it?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes! I'm not going anywhere until I know what time it is and what this is all about!" Dorian folded his arms across his chest defiantly, and watched in amusement as Chaol put his hands on his hips in a very overbearing-mother sort of way.

"Fine. It's probably right around midnight, but I don't know for sure, seeing as I don't have a watch on me currently."

"Alright, fine then. Care to answer my other question?" As he asked this, Dorian rose from his bed and grabbed some clothes to pull on.

"It's—there's something I need to show you."

Dorian raised an eyebrow at Chaol.

"Oh, shut up! When did you become so immature?"

"I don't know. When did you get so squeamish?" Dorian retorted.

"Nevermind. I just found something, and I don't have any clue what it is."

"And you think that I might?"

"No, but I think that you might be able to give me some insight. Whatever it is, it shouldn't be in the palace. It's not on any of the blueprints I've looked at, and I've looked at the ones dating all the way back to when construction started for this place. Whatever it is, it was made without anyone but its maker knowing."

"So? If it's just some hidey-hole, I don't get what the big deal is. I mean, don't you think that perhaps some king or queen of long ago perhaps just wanted some place to be outside of the public eye? Really, Chaol. You're far to jumpy." The prince sighed and was just about to flop back down on the bed when Chaol said,

"I'm not making a big deal out of this, and you'll understand when you see it! Now we have to go _/now/_ , or else we might not have another chance!"

"And why's that?" Dorian asked, sounding tired. He loved his friend, but he hated being dragged into things like this; Chaol always seemed to think that Dorian would enjoy being along for the ride, but that was never really true.

"I… I don't know. It's just a feeling. Please? Will you come?"

Dorian groaned, defeated. "Fine, fine. I'll go. Stop your whining!"

Chaol grinned, happy to have won. "Great! Let's go!"

* * *

"The library?" Dorian asked. "What could possibly be hidden in here?"

"You'll see!" Chaol whispered. "Now keep your voice down—I don't want to be caught. That would result in a lot of explaining."

"Nah, not really. We could just make up some story about how we feel like we never get to spend time together and we just wanted to be alone for a second."

"Whatever. Just be quiet," Chaol hissed as he led Dorian to where he'd been before.

Chaol swept the rug back, revealing the trap door.

"Great. Interesting. Can I go back to sleep no—" Dorian's sentence was cut short as the blackness began to seem into the wood.

Chaol smirked, pleased. "See? I told you." He waited for a response, but there wasn't one. "Dorian? Hey, Dorian?" He turned to his friend, whose eyes were a white-gray now, rather than the usual blue.

Chaol froze. "Dorian?" he said for the third time, slowly now. "Are you alright?"

Dorian's glowing eyes seemed to swirl, and his mouth began to move as he murmured something that Chaol did not understand. It was loud—louder than what Chaol felt was probably safe if they didn't want to be caught. And there was a slight bit of feedback—as though there were multiple people speaking.

Then Dorian's mouth closed and the door fell open.

Beneath it was a ladder descending into utter blackness that filled Chaol with an intense, unnatural cold.

Dorian's eyes went back to normal.

"What was that?" Chaol asked in absolute shock.

"I—I don't know. Did you hear those voices? What were they saying? I couldn't tell. Everything was all muffled and white." He swayed slightly.

Chaol stared at Dorian. "Dorian, you were the only one speaking. Your eyes got all glowy and creepy and white."

Dorian shivered, placing a hand against the wall to stop himself from falling over. "Okay, I think you were right. This place is weird, shouldn't be here." He stopped for a second, taking a deep breath and standing up right again, shivering again. "Well?"

"Well, what?" Chaol frowned.

" _Well,_ we're going in, right?" Dorian asked.

Chaol sighed. "I suppose so."

"Great!" Dorian smiled. "You can go first."

Chaol let out a snort, but didn't object as he began to climb down the ladder. Dorian followed close behind.

The two discovered that the ladder didn't, in fact, descend as far as they'd both assumed. As they moved down, there was a moment when the seemingly-incessant darkness abruptly ended, giving way to a single, warmly lit room.

Dorian glanced around, glad for the lighting, seeing as neither of the boys had thought to grab a candle from the library walls on their way down.

The room was filled with armor, paintings of the fae, ancient scripts, what appeared to be potions ingredients, and markings around the room that were similar to the ones that had been on the door. There were many shelves, filled with countless books and manuscripts that must have been of enormous value.

"Woah," Chaol muttered.

And just like that, the door above them began to creak shut, an ominous whisper passing over the place and blowing out the candles.

The hair on the back of Dorian's neck rose as he grabbed Chaol's arm, yanking him towards the ladder. They scrambled up the ladder as quickly as they could, stumbling over one another.

Just as they were toppling from the entrance, the two heard a voice murmur, "Intruders are not welcome here. Do not return."

Chaol grabbed the door and hurtled it shut.

The door began to vibrate, shaking beneath Chaol's hand. Chaol's eyes widened as he looked to Dorian, who appeared just creeped out.

"Let's go," Chaol mouthed as the door shook harder. Something was trying to get out, and both of them had the sense that it was far more powerful than what they could possibly handle.

Dorian nodded and the two hurtled from the library, through the door and down hallway. On their way, Chaol was pretty sure that he heard the door stop shaking—which was either really good, or really bad.

But he didn't hear anything following them, so it must have been alright.

Regardless, the two didn't stop running until they got back to Dorian's room.

 **Chapter Release Date: June 10, 2018**

 **A/N: Hi, sorry, I know I said this one was coming out on June 3, but… I completely forgot, so… Yeah. Also, I'm sorry about not updating yesterday. I got super busy and didn't have any time. I'm going to post chapter 39 tomorrow.**


	39. Chapter 39: Contemplation

**Chapter Thirty-Nine: Contemplation**

Dorian flung open the door to his room, slowing down to a walking pace (a little too abruptly), causing Chaol to slam into him from behind. The two tumbled into Dorian's room and staggered over to the couch. Dorian plopped down, closely followed by Chaol.

Then Dorian started laughing.

"What?" Chaol asked, out of breath. "What's so funny?"

"Look at the two of us," Dorian sighed. "We just hightailed it all the way up here from the _library_ after going down a magic trapdoor and hearing a strange voice and something chasing us up a ladder. I mean really—how often does that happen to _anyone_ else?"

Chaol snorted. "I guess it does sound sort of preposterous when you put it like that." He smiled, but quickly went back to his usual, pessimistic, stoic-seeming self. "You don't think that thing got out, do you?"

Dorian shook his head. "Did you hear anything follow us?" Chaol shook his head. "Great. And it stopped shaking the door, didn't it?" Chaol nodded. "Good. And that thing has never been seen in the palace before, hasn't it?"

Chaol paused. "Well, that… _creature_ was probably full of magic, wasn't it?"

"I don't think that magic can make someone invisible." But to be honest, he really didn't know. His father had always been so adamant that magic was bad that he'd never gotten a chance to learn what people could do with it. All he knew was what he had found on his own, and he knew he must have missed something. Sure, he had never read of anyone using magic to become invisible, but that didn't mean it wasn't possible. But he didn't let any of his doubt show through to Chaol—he knew that Chaol would worry enough as it was.

"Perhaps, but if it's a magical being, it can probably still hide."

"Fine. Whatever. We're just going to hope that we didn't do anything that will let it stay out of its cage. But, if people start being possessed, we know why." Dorian gave a wry smile.

"Dorian!" Chaol groaned. "This isn't something to joke about!"

"Fine, fine, I suppose you're right," Dorian agreed. "But honestly, Chaol—did you see all of what was down there? How many magical artifacts? The books, and the ingredients, and the paintings? Do you see how big this could be?"

"Yes. And if the king finds out about it, someone's going to be in a lot of trouble. Especially if no one comes forward immediately and confesses to being the person to put all that there."

The two fell into silence, thinking about what this could potentially mean. Was someone going to attempt to start an uprising? Or was everything down there out of use now, with the disappearance of magic?

It was Chaol that broke the silence.

"What happened back there? Before the door opened? What did you do?" That seemed to have just now come back to him.

Dorian shook his head. "I have no idea at all. I have absolutely no idea. I mean, I didn't even know I was doing anything until—until _you_ told me that I was the one doing the speaking."

Chaol nodded. Dorian expected his friend to push harder, to think that Dorian just didn't want to talk about it, but Chaol seemed to accept the prince's answer.

"Alright. I believe you."

"Really?" Dorian asked, surprised.

"Yeah. You didn't seem to know anything about what was going on back there, so yeah. I believe you."

"Okay then. I believe you, too."

They smiled at each other but, once again, it was Chaol that brought reality crashing back.

"I talked to your father earlier today. Well, actually"—Chaol paused, glancing at his watch—"yesterday."

"Oh, really?"

"Yes."

"What did he say?"

"Not too much. I just bring this up because… well, he told me not to tell anyone."

"No worries. I can keep my lips sealed." Dorian offered Chaol a slightly flirtatious smile, but Chaol seemed not to notice.

"Great. Okay. Well, he just didn't really seem all that concerned about the murders. Or, maybe he was. I don't know. It was hard to tell. He was telling me to divert my resources to things besides catching the murderer, and I can't tell if it's denial or if he really doesn't care."

"Huh," Dorian said. "Knowing him, it could really be either." Dorian let out a snort. "Knowing him, he could be the one _doing_ it." He rolled his eyes.

Chaol frowned. "I doubt that's it."

"No, I know," Dorian said quickly. "I was just—"

"Yeah, okay."

But, even after that, the two both silently felt that perhaps Dorian's word had held some sort of truth.

The two let it slide, though, and stayed up for much of the night, attempting to focus on each other, rather than what was going on in the darkness of the castle.

And Dorian, despite the terrifying experience that had started it all, had a lot of fun with Chaol.

* * *

"Hey, Lisa?" Dorian said, fairly offhand. He'd barely slept at all the previous night, but was somehow still functioning, much to his surprise.

"Yes?"

"So, I was thinking about coming out to Chaol, despite what he said to me about being gay when I talked to him about it."

"What? Why?" Lisa looked worried. "Dorian, you can't do that! Why would you have an idea like that?"

"Because," Dorian sighed. "He and I spent all of last night talking, and I really like him, and I can't stand him not knowing! It's awful, keeping something like this from him. I feel terrible, because he's been totally honest with me, told me things that he's been forbidden to say, and I'm just sitting here with this massive lie on top of me. And besides—I kind of feel like I should only be friends with people that support me. If he doesn't, I don't want to be around him. And even if that's the case, I know that he'd never tell anyone. He understands what sort of secrets he can tell and which ones he can't."

"I really don't think this is a good idea."

"Well, it doesn't matter if it's a good idea or not. I know he won't do anything to physically harm me, or to harm my reputation, and if he's a—"

"It's a bad idea," Lisa undertone through Dorian's speech.

"—dipshit that can't handle what sort of people I like, he can go to hell. He's my best friend, and—"

"Don't do it," Lisa murmured.

"—I want him to be someone that will stand by me no matter what." Dorian continued flawlessly throughout Lisa's interjections.

Lisa let out a groan. "Fine! Be like that. I'm not going to stand in the way of you telling Chaol—it's your life—but let me just be clear about this, in case you missed it: I think this is a terrible idea."

"I didn't really miss it," Dorian muttered, and got up from the step of the garden he was sitting on, marching off to go find Chaol.

 **Chapter Release Date: June 11, 2018**

 **A/N: Alright, I won't have time to post next weekend (June 16/17), so it won't be until the 23rd that I post again. To make up for missing a week, though, I will also post on the 24th.**


	40. Chapter 40: Out

**A/N: We're forty chapters through this now! Can you believe that? I mean, we have fifteen after this, but still! And don't worry about me losing interest in this story—I'm definitely going to finish it, and there's going to be a sequel, too. Maybe. Possibly. Don't hold me to it.**

 **Chapter Forty: Out**

Dorian took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. _It'll be fine. Don't worry about it. There's no point in worrying about it. There's nothing_ to _worry about. He'll be great! Just because he wasn't cool when I asked him what he thought about being gay doesn't mean that he'll be bad about it now. He is my best friend, and he'll love me no matter what._ Doubt poured through cracks in Dorian's logic, but he tried to ignore it.

As he walked with Chaol through the garden, neither of them speaking, it was these words that Dorian used to try and give himself comfort. Because whatever he thought might happen, he was going to do this.

"You seem tense," Chaol observed softly.

"Yeah," Dorian said. "But I… Remember, like, a year ago or so?"

"No." Chaol smiled slightly. "Why?"

"I asked you what you thought of being gay, and you basically said you thought it was horrible and gross."

"Yeah, still don't really remember that. I mean, hazily, sure," Chaol frowned, "but I don't get why this is important."

"Just hold on," Dorian grimaced. "You don't remember that because it meant nothing to you."

"And it meant something to you?" Chaol raised an eyebrow. "What are you trying to get at? Why bring up some small thing from a year ago?"

"Because it did mean something to me; I felt the opposite of you. I didn't think that being gay was something to be ashamed about. I don't think that love in _general_ is something to be ashamed about." He tried not to let his voice waver. "That was the first time that I'd heard someone say otherwise. I mean, Lisa had told me that most people thought differently than me, but I didn't quite believe it until I talked to you." Dorian let out a breath. "And when I brought it up, it was as though the world was coming crashing down on me."

"I don't get it. What are you trying to say, Dorian? Why did this mean so much to you? Why did it mean so much to you?"

"Because. It felt like you were basically telling _me_ that you thought that I didn't deserve the right to a chance at love. You were telling me that you thought that I was wrong, and disgusting, and gross," Dorian was crying a bit now, "even if you didn't know that was what you were doing."

"Dorian…" Chaol said, seeming upset a bit, too. "I didn't realize what I said was so upsetting to you. You should have told me."

"No. You still don't get it, do you? It didn't hit me hard because I support people being gay. It didn't hit me hard because I think everyone deserves to be able to love. I mean, I do, but the main reason is that…" Dorian took a deep breath again. It was now or never. If he backed out, he wouldn't ever have the courage to do it again. "Is that _I_ am gay, Chaol."

"You're—what?" Chaol had a look of absolute shock on his face. "But… you can't be!"

"Why not?"

"You're just… I don't know. Maybe you're just confused, or… or… Or, maybe, this is just a phase that you'll grow out of."

"Chaol. I've felt this way for years, and I know it's not going to change. Unless you feel that your liking girls is a fase."

"Of course it's not!" Chaol exclaimed.

"Great," Dorian said. "Then you see where I'm coming from."

"Not really. I don't get why you'd choose to be this way. I mean, it's so much easier to just be normal. Why can't you just be like that?"

"Because I'm not! And love isn't a choice!"

"Whatever," Chaol grimaced. "Listen, I won't tell anyone about… this," he practically sneered as he said it, "but I need… I don't know. I don't want to be around you anymore."

"What?" was all Dorian could say. He'd been expecting many things, had braced for the worst even though he was sure that Chaol would accept him, but cutting Dorian out his life? He had not expected that. He supposed he really should have.

"I don't want to be around a f** like you. I'm sorry. I really did like you, but I don't want to be around one of… _you_."

Chaol turned away from Dorian and walked away from the prince, leaving him feeling far more broken than he ever had in the past.

* * *

"You were right," Dorian muttered as he plopped down next to Lisa. "You were completely right. I should have listened to you."

"No, I wasn't. Imagine if you'd stayed friends with him," Lisa said. "Do you really want to be friends with someone who will hate you for something that you can't change? It's like if he hated you for having bucked teeth, or for being poor, or something like that. It makes no sense and if he feels that way than he doesn't deserve you as a friend."

"I didn't even tell you what happened," Dorian said, exasperated, even though he knew he shouldn't be.

"Alright then," she sighed. "What did happen?"

"Exactly what you assumed," Dorian grumbled. "He hates me now and we aren't friends. But I guess what you're saying does make sense." He looked down at his hands, which were folded in his lap. "I don't want to be friends with a guy who is going to dislike me for something I can't change." He didn't entirely believe it though. He still loved Chaol, and that wasn't going to stop any time soon.

"That's the spirit," Lisa, who apparently hadn't yet caught that he wasn't invested in his words, said. "You know what? You need to stop thinking about him. You're clearly upset about this, but you shouldn't be! You just got yourself out of a bad situation, and you need to realize how bad he was. Fuck him. You're your own man and you're on your own now, sure, but you can finally be free of him!"

Dorian started to cry at that. He knew she was trying to help, but he just wanted to go running right back to Chaol, even though he knew how bad that was, how much more that would hurt him in the long run.

But that was his best friend, the young man that he'd been in love with for years now, the boy that he'd been through everything with, the person that had always been there for him.

Until now.

* * *

Chaol splashed water on his face, trying to bring himself out of his own head. He felt guilty for saying what he had. He knew that he had hurt his best friend. Or ex-best friend, he supposed.

Dorian was so accepting of everything, and Chaol wished that he could be like that. Dorian hadn't been raised knowing what the word "gay" was, the way that Chaol had been, and in a sense, Chaol thought that that had been a bit of a blessing for Dorian. He'd been able to decide on his own how he felt about it without the overbearing presence of other people's thoughts. Chaol, on the other hand, had grown up with a disapproving father that had stressed how horrible it was to be anything other than what was considered "normal".

So Chaol, when he experienced his first crush on a girl, was thrilled that he would not disappoint his father. It was later than his father had, at first, hoped, and the old man had been berating him about it for a year. "Any girls you like, Chaol?" "Found a girl yet, Chaol?" "Have a special someone yet, Chaol?"

Regardless, Chaol was just happy that his father approved of his first crush, and that was that.

Well, that was that until he was around eighteen, and realized that he had a bit of a crush on Jeydon. He had that fluttery feeling around the guard that he often got around Lithaen, and it scared him. It scared him beyond belief. So he buried those feelings underneath what he felt for Lithaen, until they split and he couldn't ignore it any more like that. So he shoved everything down and hurtled himself into his work and focused on Jamie and training and Dorian and keeping his damn life together.

He hadn't even entirely realized his feelings toward Jeydon. But then Dorian just _had_ to bring up… _that_ sort of thing, and now… Everything had been brought to the surface, everything that he hadn't wanted to feel before, and he was terrified by it. He had no one to talk to, and it wasn't as though he could just go running right back to Dorian, now was it? Not after everything he'd said. He understood that much at the very least.

Chaol braced his hands on the basin before him, squeezing his eyes shut.

He couldn't think about all this. Not now.

And he couldn't take back what he'd said, couldn't erase what he thought about the whole situation, but he knew that he had to say goodbye to his friendship with Dorian over it, despite the fact that he really didn't want to.

He didn't think he could handle being around Dorian anymore. He loved the guy, but that was the problem. He _loved_ Dorian. In a way that he knew he shouldn't. And he didn't think he could be around Dorian without the crushing reality of everything he'd said and how that meant that he would never have a chance.

 _I'll just focus on other things, then,_ Chaol thought. _I'll keep investigating these murders in my spare time. That'll help. I'll be kept busy._

And he might go back to the trap door. He wasn't sure what it was, but he had a gut feeling that it somehow had to do with the murders. He didn't know why he thought that—he just did.

 _That'll keep me working. I won't have to think about everything… else._

Chaol shucked off his clothes and sprawled across his bed, flicking off his light. He couldn't believe that his friendship with Dorian was finally over.

 **Chapter Release Date: June 23, 2018**

 **A/N: That was painful to type. Have any of you had trouble coming out? I didn't really, but I did have a bit of push back. You know—the people that say it's just a faze and whatnot. But my family and friends eventually came around. The only person I really had trouble with was a girl that I thought was my best friend. She is really religious—and I'm not in any way say that's bad—so I suppose I shouldn't have been so surprised, but when I came out she told me to my face that she accepted me but would never support me. I know that a lot of people have had it a lot worse though. But just know that no matter who you are or where you live or what you believe in, you are not alone, nor will you ever be, no matter what it feels like. 3**


	41. Chapter 41: The List

**A/N: Hi guys! I just discovered that several weeks back I accidentally posted a repeat chapter. Instead of posting chapter 35 like I was supposed to, I somehow ended up with two 34s. Some of you probably noticed, and I do apologize if it was inconvenient at all. I have fixed it, so now you can read the correct chapter 35 if you haven't already. Once again, I'm so sorry for my mistake.**

 **Chapter Forty-One: The List**

Dorian went around the way he always did.

He sat through court meetings, he listened to his mother rant about the various women that would be eligible for him to marry, he paid attention to his father's rants about the war, he listened to the help gossip, he chatted with his guards casually, he read with Lisa, and he pretended he was fine.

He _pretended_ he was fine.

But he wasn't. He wasn't even a little bit fine. His best friend hated him now—or so he believed. He had just lost the one person who was supposed to always be by his side. He had lost the one person that truly believed in him, understood him.

And now, if Chaol didn't accept him, then who would? Chaol had always accepted him. Chaol had loved him through everything, had supported him no matter what, and now he was gone. Would he ever have a chance to be like that with anyone else?

But Dorian didn't let any of his worries be visible to the outside world. He let everything pass by—the conquer of another kingdom, the arrest of a known and deadly assassin, the marriage of one of his many cousins, and even the announcement that a foreign princess was coming to visit. He let all of it pass right by him. He didn't care—not anymore.

* * *

It had been five months since the most recent murder, and now there was yet another. It had also been five months since Chaol had stopped talking to Dorian, and one month since Chaol had turned 22. Chaol was struggling to keep himself together. No longer being friends with Dorian was so hard, especially since he knew it was his fault.

But the most important thing, Chaol knew, was the murders, since it seemed that he was the only one willing to take action. Everyone, however, had hoped that the five month long period of time without a single death meant the end of the worries. The end of the killings. That they were all safe. But this proved otherwise. There had now been six murders in just a little over a year.

And one would think, that after six of these, there would be something to lead them back to the killer.

There wasn't.

There were vague connections between victims, but nothing substantial, nothing that would lend itself to a suspect list, or even a slight understanding of the killer.

In hopes of making any progress at all, Chaol made plans to visit the trap door, see if he could find something— _anything_ —that might give him any clues. He hadn't been there since that night with Dorian, and he hoped that he'd be able to get down there without any trouble.

He decided that it would be best to go in when it was still light out and there would be more people in the library so that he wouldn't be alone should anything happen.

He slipped into the back, moving quickly, trying to avoid prying eyes. Whoever had put the door there must have been smart enough to put it in an area most people didn't go.

He arrived in the isles and walked deliberately towards the rug, kneeling down when he got there and flipping it back.

He watched as the door became stained with black, just as it had before, revealing the glowing symbols. He wasn't sure what Dorian had said the previous time to make it open, but he knew he had to try.

"Please open for me," he whispered. "I need to know if there's anything in here to help me."

Then he grabbed one edge and yanked on it. It gave some resistance on his first tug, but, miraculously, it sprang open on the second. There was the ladder, descending into the darkness. Even though it was brightly lit in the library, it was as though the light would not touch the darkness—as if there were some things that even the light itself feared.

Chaol got the feeling that a candle wouldn't help, but he grabbed one anyway and started down the rungs to the room far below.

Sure enough, the candle did flicked out. As soon as its flame was submerged in the blackness, the flame was gone—poof. Or perhaps it wasn't, but regardless, he was unable to see it. He held on as tightly as he could until light reached his eyes again.

It was strange—that harsh line between the room below and the darkness. Almost as if the dark was an essence of its own.

The room was almost exactly as it had been the previous time, but for some reason, it felt off. It was almost sour, though there was no smell or taste that Chaol could pinpoint. It was just _different_ than it had been when he first came with Dorian.

He shivered, trying to shake the feeling, and started looking around as quickly as he could. Should that… _thing_ from last time show up again, he wanted to have done all the looking he could before he was bade to leave.

The first thing he noticed was the shelves of books, all written in a language that he didn't understand. Those wouldn't help him—there was too much to go through, even if he could read them.

The carpeting had symbols on it, the same as on the door—that was what he noticed next. He had a vague feeling he shouldn't step on them. They were emitting a low pulse, which added to the ominous feeling of the room. He wasn't sure how, but he was pretty sure they had to do with magic in some way, and he felt that staying away from them was probably his best bet for survival.

In the corner in between a large lamp and a suit of armor sat a desk and a chair, and on the desk was a stack of papers. That, Chaol thought, he could work with.

When he looked closer, he saw that the top paper was in fact the only one that contained any writing at all. It had the same marks as before, but this time, rather than a pulse or a glow emanating from them, the paper seemed to draw him in. It also filled him with a sense of dread, like he needed to get away from it. It was dangerous—he shouldn't be there. He needed to get away from it.

 _But wait,_ a small voice in his head said. _Isn't this what you came for? Why are you trying to run away now? That's completely irrational._

He felt his heart pounding in his chest as he stepped forward and picked up the piece of paper. And as he did so, that horrible feeling vanished. Instead of feeling like he was being mentally murdered, suddenly there was a calmness and clarity to his thought. That writing definitely had some kind of magic warped around it.

That writing also seemed like the sort of thing Dorian would have some freaky connection to. Something he would understand.

He didn't really want to bring it to Dorian, but looking at it gave him a bad feeling. The whole place did really, but that piece of paper seemed to be the center of it. And looking at it harder, it appeared to be a list, and whatever that list was, it probably wasn't good.

He gave the room another glance, and decided that he could always come back should the list not amount to anything.

But it was an excuse to see Dorian, as much as he hated to admit it, so he grabbed the list and hauled himself back up the ladder.

* * *

Dorian was lying on his bed, half asleep when Chaol came in. It was the middle of the day, and he had intended to just read for a little bit—since he had spare time—but he'd been so tired that by now, he was just on the verge of dreaming.

Then… _wham!_ The door slammed open.

"Dorian!" Chaol snapped. "Get up!"

"What the hell, Chaol?" Dorian yelped as he almost fell out of bed in shock. Then, after managing to compose himself once more, he stood and said, "What are you doing here, Chaol?" in the coldest possible tone that he could manage.

Chaol flinched a little, like he knew that Dorian was doing it on purpose, and then said, "I wouldn't have come here if it wasn't important, Dorian." His voice was soft and bordered on the edge of almost sounding… guilty.

"Yeah. Because you don't want to have to deal with 'people like me' as you put it. And yes, I realize that you didn't use 'people' when you said it. Now get out." Dorian glared at Chaol. "I don't want to talk to you."

"I know, and I'm sorry! I'm sorry I said that, and I know that I shouldn't have! I understand how wrong it was for me to do what I did, even if I did believe it."

"Great. Then you also understand that I'm not going to forgive you anytime soon. Words have power, Chaol, and what you said hurt. Also, don't apologize to me if you still believe what you said. It defeats the purpose of apologizing."

Chaol looked at his feet. "I know. But I need your help. It'll only take a few minutes and I think it might be connected to the murders. I found it under that trapdoor, and I think you might be able to translate it for me." He held up the piece of paper.

"How'd you get back in?" Dorian asked, curiosity outweighing his disinterest in making conversation with Chaol, stepping forward to look cautiously at the paper.

"I asked it to open for me."

Dorian glanced up. "Really?"

"No, I found it on the street," Chaol said sarcastically. "Yes, really! Now will you take a look or not?"

"Fine," Dorian agreed.

Chaol handed him a piece of paper, and Dorian frowned at it. "It's just a bunch of names. Why did you need this translated? You can read just fine."

"Dorian," Chaol sighed, "that isn't in any language I've seen before. Except for on that door. I can't read it."

"Really?" Dorian seemed surprised. "Interesting. I can read it just fine. Must be a side effect of… something." He didn't finish—he didn't want to flat out say he had magic, but at the same time, he wasn't even entirely sure it was just having magic that let him understand this language.

"Can you write down what it says? Then I'll be out of your way."

"Yeah, sure," Dorian responded, grabbing a pen and scribbling down the list of names in the common tongue. "Here you go," he said, handing both the original and the new one to Chaol.

Dorian watched as Chaol grabbed the pieces of paper and tucked them inside of one of his pockets.

"Why did you come to me about this?" Dorian asked. "I mean, you could have gone to anyone. I'm sure there are plenty of guards that you trust as much. So why me?" Secretly, he was hoping that perhaps it had been that Chaol wanted to make amends—he wasn't letting Chaol back into his life until that happened.

But instead of saying that, Chaol simply said, "I knew you'd be able to help me. I didn't know anyone else who could. Thanks for the help."

Then he walked out and closed the door behind him, leaving Dorian at a loss as to what to do next.

 **Chapter Release Date: June 27, 2018**

 **A/N: Sorry for not posting this on Sunday. Totally spaced. Sorry. Also, next week I might not have a chance to post (but I also might), and if that happens, I'll just do two posts the week after that.**


	42. Chapter 42: The Final Name

**Chapter Forty-Two: The Final Name**

Chaol walked out of Dorian's room. That had been… tense. He'd meant what he said—he was sorry, but he also still believed everything that he'd told Dorian a few months ago.

He shook his head, trying to clear it a little bit, then glanced down at the list, reading it for the first time.

All of the names were members of the court, but not all of the court members were on the list. The first six names were the—

 _No… This can't be what I think it is,_ Chaol thought.

The first six names were the first six people to have been killed, in chronological order. After those six, there were seven more that were simply listed normally. After those seven, there were three final names, all having question marks next to them. The last name in that final set was Dorian's.

Chaol covered his mouth. If this was what it looked like, then the killer that had been roaming these halls not only had a list of all of the potential victims, but that list was in order of who was going to be killed when. It even included people that the murder still wasn't sure about.

This was so much bigger than Chaol had expected. He'd hoped it would help him somehow, but he'd never expected something like _this._

But, despite what this was, he knew he couldn't tell Dorian about it all meant. Afterall, it did mean that Dorian might be living on a finite timeline, and he couldn't tell the boy that. He had barely lived at all; he didn't deserve to know that his life was about to be cut short. Besides—he'd want to help catch the killer, and that wasn't something a prince should be doing. It would get him killed quicker, and with a king like Dorian's father, Dorian needed to be kept alive to ascend to the throne when necessary.

Chaol only hoped that Dorian hadn't really been paying much attention to the list as he translated it. He hadn't seemed to—that was a plus.

 _Whatever the king's done, I still need to tell him about this,_ was Chaol's first instinct. But then he realized—he couldn't tell the king. He couldn't tell _anyone_ about what he'd found. He had no way of proving what he'd found was real. How did they know he hadn't just forged it? And in any scenario, they'd want to see the original. Then there'd be the problem of wondering how he'd translated it, which would mean he'd either have to come up with a lie to tell his king or explain that Dorian was capable of doing some strange things. And they would all want to know where he had found it, which would lead to complications. No matter what he did, they wouldn't believe him, at least not until the next few people on the list were killed, and that would be too late. They probably wouldn't let him act on the list until that happened either.

Or, they would assume he was the killer and was attempting to rule himself out as a suspect. Not that he'd be stupid enough to try something like that (even if he was the killer), but he had a feeling the king really wanted to find someone to blame and lock up.

Chaol had no idea who he could trust. If the king told the wrong person, all his hard work would go down the drain. And then, of course, there was the worry that word could get out to the killer that it was _Chaol_ that had tipped the king off. That would either put Chaol on the list, or it would scare the killer away and he would never be caught.

Of course, letting the king know might be better than nothing. But something about the whole scenario felt wrong. He couldn't put a finger on it, but he just had a feeling that it would only make things worse to tell the king. It was the same feeling he'd had the night that he and Dorian had discovered that cave, the feeling that had kept him convinced that it was somehow related to the murders.

If he wasn't going to tell anyone, though, he felt as though Dorian had a right to know. Afterall, his name _was_ on the list, so he was being placed in direct danger by Chaol's decision not to alert anyone that could help protect him. Of course, that would put a lot on Dorian's plate, but with no one else he could trust, Chaol felt like it was the right decision. At least the prince would be aware.

And so Chaol turned back around and headed back into Dorian's room to do exactly what he'd originally planned not to do.

"Dorian," he said as he flung the door open. "I need you to look at this."

"I just did, Chaol," Dorian groaned, getting up from his bed for the second time that afternoon.

"I know that. But look closer." He thrust the translated version in Dorian's face. "Look at the names and look at the order."

Dorian looked through the list, seeming confused at first, but as his eyes drifted down the list, it seemed to hit him what the list really was. Then he reached the bottom. He lifted his gaze to meet Chaol's.

"Chaol…" he said slowly. "Is this what it looks like? Is this a list of people who are going to be—or have been—killed?"

Chaol nodded. "I wasn't going to show it to you."

"Why? Because I'm on the list? Because you didn't want to worry me? There's still a question mark by my name. That probably means I'm still just a possibility, right? I still have a shot."

"And look at the original." He handed Dorian the original for the prince to examine again, and Dorian's expression went from concerned to fearful. "They all had question marks by them, and nothing looks like it's been crossed out except for the question marks. Everybody that once wasn't a certain mark became one."

"Oh. Chaol," Dorian whispered. Fear had crept into his delicate voice. "Does this mean I'm going to die?"

"No, I won't let that happen," Chaol said, their previous conflict vanishing from his mind. "I won't let that happen." Dorian gave a quick nod. "I'm really sorry for everything I've done, Dorian. I was wrong… about you, about being gay. I can't lose you. I won't let you die."

Dorian stepped towards Chaol, wrapping his arms around him. Chaol held him right back.

When Dorian finally pulled away, Chaol let out a breath and said, "I refuse to let you go. But I also can't show this to anyone, and neither can you."

"Why not?" Dorian asked, suddenly seeming even more worried.

"Well, how will I explain how I found it? And I know that they'd eventually see that it is valid, but people will die before that. They won't let me do anything about it until then, either."

"So? You'd still get there eventually!"

"The killer could be anyone! We have no idea who we can trust! And, even if we did… you have to feel it too, Dorian," Chaol said. "This list _feels_ bad. And no offense, but it gives me the same feeling that your father does."

"And what feeling does my father give you?" Dorian asked defiantly.

"He feels wrong, Dorian. Like there's something rotten inside of him. This has that same feeling. Whatever this is, I think it would be a very bad idea to let him know that we have it." It was so hard for Chaol to admit that, to admit he was serving a horrible man, but there was nothing else that he _could_ do in that moment.

Dorian sighed, looking away, bitter acceptance in his face. "I guess you're right."

The two sat there for a minute, neither quite knowing what to say to the other.

Finally, Dorian turned back to Chaol and said, "There's something I want to tell you, then. I want to tell you in case I do die."

"Dorian," Chaol sighed. "You're not going to die. I won't let it happen."

"Yes, well," Dorian grimaced. "We don't know that. In all honesty, you haven't managed to stop any of these murders so far, and we don't know what's going to happen when this person sees that the list is missing. There aren't many names in between me and the next victim. I have to tell you this, because if I don't I might never get a chance."

"Fine. Tell me," Chaol said, sighing slightly.

"I love you, no matter what you've done. I love you, Chaol." Dorian whispered.

"Even after everything I said?" Chaol asked. "But that's really sweet. And, I mean, yeah, I love you too, Dorian, and I always will."

"No, you don't get it." Dorian laughed nervously. "I love you in a way that's more than that. I love you the way that you loved Lithaen. The way that I pretended to love Rosa."

"Oh." Chaol didn't look surprised. He looked down at his shoes, thinking for a second what to do, to say. "Okay. Listen, I want to be friends with you. I still don't really accept everything, but I'll make an effort. I'll make an effort to understand, to accept you. Can we be friends again?"

"I don't know," Dorian responded cautiously. "Have you really changed your beliefs that much all of the sudden?"

"No. But I do believe that I really care about you, and, despite what I've been told, you aren't a terrible person just looking for attention. And if that's false, I believe that a lot more of what I've been told probably could be. I want to understand, Dorian, I really do."

"I'll think about it. But, then, do you just not care, or what?"

"About how you have these… _feelings_ for me? Well, yeah, of course I care. I just don't want that to stand in the way of our friendship. I don't feel the same way, and you know that, and I can't pretend that I'm used to all of this, but I care about you a lot, and I want to be your friend."

"Okay."

"Okay, like we can be friends?" Chaol seemed insanely hopeful.

Dorian sighed. "No, Chaol. I already said that I'd think about it, and that hasn't changed, but we're not friends again until I say so. Got it?" Sure, he loved Chaol, but he also knew he probably shouldn't. After everything Chaol had said and done… he couldn't let that go just yet. He knew he'd probably cave eventually, but… still. He believed he and Chaol could be friends again, just not now.

Chaol nodded. "Alright. That's fine." He looked down at the floor and took a breath. "I'm going to go talk to Jeydon and Jamie. I know that I can at least trust them and I'm going to need help with everything that we now know."

"Alright. Go do your thing." Dorian smiled at Chaol, and Chaol smiled weakly back.

But they both knew that those smiles were just a mask for the worry that lay beneath.

 **Chapter Release Date: July 7, 2018**


	43. Chapter 43: A Revelation

**A/N: As promised, an extra chapter on Sunday.**

 **Chapter Forty-Three: A Revelation**

Dorian was sitting with Lisa. He hadn't told her about the list yet, and he didn't think that he was going to. It was a hard thing to keep to himself—that he was going to die soon—but he still had a chance, and he didn't want to worry her. He'd tell her later, if it got to that. But he also didn't totally trust her. It was the sort of thing that she might accidentally let slip, and even if it was on purpose and _she_ trusted that someone, he knew that the news would eventually reach his father.

So instead of telling her about that, he decided to tell her the other big news.

"I told Chaol today," he said, grinning wildly.

"Told him what?" she asked, frowning. "You already came out to him."

"I told him about my crush on him."

"Why are you still falling for him, Dorian?" Lisa groaned. "After what that dick said to you? And why were you even talking to him in the first place?"

"I don't know. We were just in the same room and… there wasn't really a reason not to, I guess," Dorian said, stumbling over a simple explanation for what had happened. "And I know that I probably shouldn't still like him, but it's not the sort of thing that you can just make yourself stop doing. But anyway, I only told him after he apologized for everything he said. He wants us to be friends, even though he still doesn't really get… everything. But he did say that he was willing to work on it!"

"And how did you respond to that?" Lisa asked tiredly.

"I told him I'd think about it."

"Great," she said. "Leave him hanging for a month or two. Make sure that he's really desperate before you even give him a chance."

"What? No! That's just mean," Dorian ripremended her.

"Yeah, and what he did to _you_ was also mean."

"Two wrongs don't make a right," Dorian responded.

"Now you're just paroting your mother," Lisa sighed.

"Lay off it a bit," Dorian said. "I'm going to honestly think about it. I mean, he said he was sorry—and seemed to mean it—and he said he'd work on it."

"Fine. But I don't think this is a smart move on your part."

"I know, Lisa," Dorian grimaced. "You've made that clear."

"Moving on, how did he react when you told him about your feelings for him?"

"He said he didn't mind and that he didn't want it to impact our relationship," Dorian said calmly.

"Wow. Very adult of him. Are you sure he doesn't have a crush on you, too?"

"Of course not. He said so, too. What makes you think that?" Dorian asked.

"Oh, I don't know," she said. "I mean, you tell him that you have this massive crush on him after everything that's happened and he's just like, 'Oh, yeah, that's cool. Can we be friends again?' I guess I just feel like that's not how he usually is. But maybe I'm wrong. I mean, you were his best friend and his longest lasting friend."

"Exactly," Dorian said. There was no way she was right. Right?

* * *

Dorian's head rested against his fist as he tried to stay awake through the court meeting. They were currently discussing the murders again, and there was nothing interesting that they'd said yet. Except about Miss Rompier's little… _incident_ , but that wasn't on topic.

"I was so convinced it was Sardothien!" one royal was complaining.

"Yes, but now she's locked up, so that's not an option," said another. He almost sounded sad.

"I realize that!" the first responded, annoyed.

Dorian repressed a groan of boredom.

"Do we have nothing new about all of this?" he asked.

"Not really," snapped the man sitting beside him.

"Great," Dorian responded and rested his head on his hand again.

"Well, has anyone else noticed that all of the people killed have defied His Majesty the King at least once? And had major disagreements with him?" the first man interjected.

"Hey, you're right!" another agreed.

"Excuse me?" the king asked, standing up. "What are you implying?"

The first court member shrank back in his seat. "Only that the killer seems to be targeting people who have upset you, Your Majesty. Therefore, the person may be… er… trying to impress you…? Or something…"

"Right. Leave. Now," the king commanded before sitting back down as the man was dragged out. "Let's continue, shall we?"

* * *

Chaol rubbed his face, running a hand through his hair. What was the connection between the murders? He'd been listening at the court meeting, and the courtier had a point. They had all disagreed with the king and then had done something against orders.

But that wasn't enough. He had the list of people who were going to be killed in front of him, so he no longer had to figure out who was at risk. He needed to figure out the pattern of timings.

Chaol began skimming what they had all been last seen doing.

 _Appt. with Duke Perrington. Was not seen returning. Weapons master reported never seeing him._

 _Appt. with Duke Perrington. Was not seen attending._

Duke Perrington.

Appointment.

Was not seen reterning.

Was not reported to have arrived.

Was not seen attending.

All of them had something along those lines. Chaol had noticed it before, but he'd never really paid much attention to it. Perrington couldn't be involved with all of this, could he? Chaol had always chalked it up to the exact excuse that courtier had given—someone trying to impress the king. Or perhaps someone who had a gripe with Perrington. Making excuses had been easier than believing his superiors had resorted to such means of keeping people in line—killing those they didn't know was one thing, killing members of their own court was another. But now, with that list, he supposed that he couldn't really ignore it anymore. He'd felt as though it probably had to do with the king—and so had that courtier—but what if it didn't?

What if all of this was Duke Perrington's doing instead?

 **Chapter Release Date: July 8, 2018**


	44. Chapter 44: The Queen Knows

**A/N: Sorry that this is a short chapter. I hope you like it anyway. We only have eleven more chapters to go! I feel like we should still be at the beginning of this whole story, you know? It doesn't feel like I started writing it too long ago, even though I began the story plan sometime in July of 2017, so about a year ago now.**

 **Chapter Forty-Four: The Queen Knows**

It had been a month since Dorian and Chaol had decided that they weren't opposed to talking again. And yesterday, Dorian had told Chaol that he'd thought about it and made his final decision. They could start hanging out again. He also told Chaol that he was beginning to accept himself, so he was hoping that Chaol might, too.

Chaol and Dorian had continued to detective their way through the situation at hand, trying to put the pieces together as they hunted for answers. Chaol had commissioned Dorian to find out everything that he could about Duke Perrington's meetings with various people and to make sure that none of them were on the list, though Chaol helped out with that a bit too.

They'd also put the list back where they'd found it, seeing as they didn't want it to seem to strange that it had just vanished. It would be best if the author of the list thought that it had been misplaced.

Now Chaol was laying on his bed, staring up at the ceiling and contemplating everything that had happened recently. It had been a lot. First, it turned out that Dorian was gay. Then, it turned out that Dorian might end up being killed, so Dorian told Chaol that he was in love with Chaol and Chaol asked if they could be friends. And now Dorian said that he finally, truly accepted himself.

 _I might have a shot,_ Chaol thought. He shook his head. _Never going to happen. Stop thinking about this!_

He loved Dorian far more than he would ever admit to anyone. Even to himself. But he was beginning to realize that he couldn't keep shoving it down anymore. He would have to face his feelings at some point or another.

 _It's still wrong. Even if I myself feel this way, it's still wrong. I shouldn't be in love with Dorian. It just isn't right!_

He rolled over, trying to get comfortable and trying to ignore the feelings bubbling up inside of him. He buried his head in his pillow. He was so lost.

* * *

"Really, honey," Queen Georgina said. "You've got to find a girlfriend sooner or later. Preferably sooner, at that! I know that you haven't really wanted to date after Rosamund broke up with you, but you can't keep going with this distant, out of touch way of yours! Eventually you're going to have to face that fact that you must marry!"

"Listen, I don't want to date right now so please stop pushing me!" Dorian snapped.

"I'm not going to keep doing that! You're constantly telling me, 'Not right now!' so I keep letting you just stay like this, but I can't anymore! You need to find another girl of royal blood that you enjoy! And if you don't, I'll be forced to find one for you!" Her voice was shrill and slightly angry.

"Please don't," Dorian muttered.

"I'm sorry honey, but you're approaching an age where you must marry. You have to find a young woman that you like, or else you'll be stuck with one you don't."

"Can't we just not worry about this right now? I'm only eighteen, and you're not that old, either! It's not like anything is going to happen to you or father anytime soon, so I won't need to replace you," Dorian argued.

"We need to talk about this, Dorian. Something could happen at any second, and we both know that your brother isn't a fit age to rule. You have to be prepared, and that includes finding a woman to marry. I'd prefer for you to be happy with her, dear, but if you are unwilling to try finding a woman to date that you like that way, then you're going to have to just marry one."

"And what if I don't like girls like that?" Dorian growled at his mother.

"What?" Georgina was completely shocked. "What are you saying, Dorian?"

"I'm gay," Dorian whispered to her, and then stormed out of the room.

* * *

Dorian lay on his bed sobbing. He couldn't believe what he'd just done. He had told his mother the truth about himself, and he was glad that she knew, but at the same time utterly terrified.

If Georgina told the king, Dorian was done for. The King of Adarlan would not tolerate a gay son, and Dorian knew that. Why had he opened his mouth at all? Now he was just in a bunch of trouble that could have been easily avoided.

And what would his mother herself think? He knew that his father would probably disown him, or perhaps do something even worse. His mother, on the other hand, was much harder to read. He guessed that she was probably against most of the things his father was for, but it could be so hard to tell sometimes. He'd also left the room too quickly when he'd told her to get a good idea of what she thought.

He let out a groan of frustration and rolled over. Things could easily get very bad very quickly.

 **Chapter Release Date: July 14, 2018**


	45. Chapter 45: Number Seven

**A/N: Only 10 chapters to go! But then there'll (probably) be a sequel, since I have full intentions of ending this story in a cliffhanger! *laughs madly***

 **Chapter Forty-Five: Number Seven**

At the same time as Dorian was dealing with his mother, Chaol was tracking Perrington.

He hadn't told Dorian what he was doing. He wanted answers, and he knew that he wasn't going to get them without doing something dangerous. And he counted this as dangerous—tracking a potential serial killer, that was.

He also knew that Dorian would probably try to stop him from going without backup from Jamie and Jaydon, but he didn't want to put them in this position—possible death by serial killer, or possible firing from a boss that told them to stop looking in to the killings.

If something happened to him, he needed people around who could finish what he started.

So he'd packed up his gear alone and started following Duke Perrington. It had been a while since the last murder had occurred, so another one was bound to happen again soon.

Chaol had been monitoring the seventh person on the list ever since he'd found it, so the previous week when he had discovered—on his own terms—that a meeting was taking place between number seven and Perrington, he decided he better check things out.

The meeting was taking place in a tavern, so Chaol went in appropriate gear—a cloak and dark clothes, plus a notepad with a pen, which he tucked in the inside pocket of his cloak.

He trailed Sutton—the man about to face death—through the streets rather than Perrington, in case something was attempted before the meeting even began. He wanted to keep the man safe, even if the guy had been a dick to Chaol before. Because really, did he have to be like that _every_ court meeting? It wasn't as if—

Chaol took a deep breath. That didn't matter right now.

Chaol kept his hood on the whole time and his head stayed down. The last thing that Chaol wanted was to be identified.

After a ten or fifteen minute walk, Chaol arrived at a local bar several feet behind the lord. Duke Perrington was already there.

Chaol sat down at a lone booth a little bit away from the other two and ordered a drink. As the duke and the lord began conversing, Chaol started taking notes. He didn't know what he'd need later, so he tried to get everything important that he could.

The two started with polite "hello"s and "how do you do?"s, as could be expected, but soon Perrington veered away from the usual conversation starters.

"Let's get down to business," he said to the lord.

"Yes, why don't we?" Sutton responded.

"You haven't done what the king asked you to do," Duke Perrington said frankly, "and he is not a patient man. He asked you to get it done months ago."

"His expectations are ridiculous, Duke Perrington! You realize that, and so must he! He shouldn't expect so much of me in such a small amount of time. And besides, I didn't…" Sutton stopped. "You won't repeat this to the king, will you?"

Chaol refrained from letting out an audible groan. Of course Perrington would perit this all back to the king! Sutton was such an idiot. Everybody knew that Perrington was the king's lapdog!

"Of course not." Chaol could practically _hear_ the false smile in the duke's words. "I'm just here to make sure you've still got your priorities straight."

"Well, here's the thing, sir. I don't agree with what he's asking me to do." The lord dropped his voice as he said it. "I know that's bad of me, but even I have my limits!"

"He is your king. Your limits don't matter—only his do, and you would do well to recognise that," Duke Perrington said.

"But I just… You know what? I'm not going to do it. I don't care that the king will be upset. I refuse to do it. I just can't!"

"Fine. Leave now. This is a decision you'll live to regret," Duke Perrington said. The lord nodded and got up. As he began to walk out, Perrington muttered, "Or maybe not." Chills went down Chaol's spine at that.

Then he heard Perrington rise behind him, and Chaol took that as his que to move it.

He gathered his things, pulled his hood further over his face, and hustled out. He wondered why no one had thought to follow Perrington before. Sure, the guy seemed fine from the outside, but he wasn't exactly subtle about his meetings.

But, Chaol supposed, the detail about Perrington meeting with these people had been kept under pretty good wrapps. He'd had to dig through quite a bit to find anything—in fact, it had been a complete fluke that he'd seen the list of those meetings at all! He had been in the library one day, looking through financial records that no one seemed to care about when he'd stumbled upon a file that seemed out of place.

Chaol frowned as he began to walk. Actually, when he had brought up the file to the king later on, the king told Chaol that he was the only person who knew about the meetings. He recalled that the king had even gone so far as to tell Chaol not to mention it to anyone because the meetings had been over sensitive information.

Chaol slapped himself mentally. He'd assumed before that the murders had perhaps happened over that "sensitive information" or had perhaps even been completely unrelated just because he'd been stupid enough to trust the king's word—there had only been three gone at that point, and it could have just been a coincidence. He'd wanted so badly to believe that he was serving a decent man, even though he knew that was completely false.

Dammit.

He shook his head. He had been so stupid.

 _But now isn't the time to worry about that,_ Chaol thought as he hurried to catch up with the lord.

Miraculously, Chaol didn't encounter any trouble on the way back to the palace, and neither did Sutton. In fact, they made it all the way up to Sutton's quarters, at which point Chaol could no longer follow, with no problems, which seemed so strange that Chaol decided to slip into a side hallway and wait for a while. Perrington had to show up at _some_ point.

And, indeed, he did.

The duke seemed to simply appear out of thin air at the end of the hallway. He made his way slowly down toward the lord's door, as though he had all the time in the world, before politely knocking.

Sutton opened the door, a glass of wine in hand.

"May I come in?" Perrington asked. "I do apologize for my words earlier. I am afraid I came off as quite rude and was wondering if you would let me try again?"

"Er… sure, but I don't have long," Sutton responded, glancing behind him, presumably at a clock.

Perrington slipped inside, closing the door behind himself. Chaol heard the lock click.

Chaol silently moved across the hallway to the door and pressed his ear against the crack.

"The king is most displeased with your decision, My Lord," he heard Duke Perrington say.

"What? I thought you said that—"

"It doesn't matter what I said. It does matter that you said you didn't care, because I guarantee you will now."

Chaol heard the lord let out a strangled yelp, but his noise was quickly silenced.

Chaol didn't want to do anything—if he went in there now, he would be made and Perrington could easily do away with him too, and that would certainly not be a dazzling way to end an investigation.

Chaol waited for a second, hearing nothing, and decided he couldn't remain outside, doing nothing, any longer. He slammed his body against the door, breaking it down and rushing inside.

Chaol looked around the place. The window was open and there was no sign of the duke. The lord, on the other hand, was lying in the middle of the room, bleeding and seeming only vaguely aware of his surroundings.

"Help!" Chaol screamed as he grabbed some sheets off of the bed, ripping off a smaller section from them. He pulled off the lord's waistcoat and button-down shirt. There was a long slash across the stomach that resembled a sword or knife wound. Chaol quickly began wrapping the wound up, knowing that the bleeding had to be stopped soon. "Help!" he called again.

* * *

Chaol sat beside the lord in the hospital, staring off into space. He wanted to be there with the man until someone else showed up. He felt like that was the best thing to do. That way, the lord wouldn't wake up alone and he wouldn't be at the mercy of Duke Perrington.

He heard a noise from behind that made him leap out of his chair, but it was only the king.

"My, my. Jumpy, are we?" the king chuckled warmly.

"Apologies, Your Majesty. It's how I've been trained to be." He offered the king a shaky smile. "Besides—someone was almost killed."

"Listen, Chaol. I know that you just want to help," the king began as he sat down next to Chaol, "but you should not meddle with things that you do not understand. It paints a target on your back and sends a message. You don't want to end up like him, do you?" The king gestured to the lord laying on the bed.

"Is that a threat?" Chaol asked, surprised. He then added, a little bit belatedly, "Your Majesty?"

"Only if you make it one," the King of Adarlan said. "Get some rest, Captain. It's late."

Then the man walked out of the room, leaving Chaol feeling very glad that he had not shared his finding of the list with the king.

* * *

Chaol dashed into Dorian's room. Chaol had commissioned Jeydon to watch over the injured lord until he himself could make more proper arrangements.

Chaol knew that Dorian would want to hear about what had just happened, but he almost changed his mind when he flung open the door and saw Dorian, still wide awake, laying on his bed and looking absolutely miserable.

Regardless, he had to tell the prince.

"Dorian," he whispered as he closed the door behind him. "Dorian, I followed the seventh guy on the list—Sutton. He was meeting with Perrington today, and trust me, it was not easy to figure that out."

Dorian grimaced and sat up. "And? What happened?" he asked, though it seemed a little halfhearted.

"Well, they talked. It sounded like the king wanted the lord to do something, but he didn't do it and isn't going to. Perrington let the guy go, but I had enough sense to keep following the two of them. Perrington stayed a little while behind the lord until they got to his room where Perrington tried to kill the guy, I guess. I opened the door right when I heard the lord let out a scream, but Perrington was already gone. I got the lord to the hospital, and the king met me there," Chaol paused for a moment, watching Dorian. Something was wrong, and Chaol could feel it, but he had to finish up this explanation. "He told me that I needed to stop 'meddling with things that I don't understand.'"

"Classic line," Dorian muttered.

Chaol let out a breath. "What's wrong, Dorian?"

"Did you have more to tell me?" Dorian asked in return.

"Not really," Chaol responded. "Just that your father is probably either helping or letting this go on."

"Not surprising."

"Yeah, I guess. Will you tell me what's wrong?"

Dorian let out a reluctant sigh, then said, "I came out to my mother and then I sort of ran. I have no idea what she'll think, but if she tells my father then I'm dead."

"That wasn't exactly the smartest idea," Chaol said.

"I realize that," Dorian snapped. Then he turned away. "I'm sorry. I know you're just trying to help. She was just telling me about how I needed to find a woman I was in love with and all that jazz because otherwise I'd end up unhappy, and I didn't mean to say it, I really didn't, but it just sort of slipped out of my mouth, but once it was out, there was no taking it back."

Chaol sighed. "Yeah. Okay. I know that this seems bad right now, but it won't be in the long run. I'm sure she won't tell your father."

"I dunno…" Dorian trailed off, tears in his eyes.

"Just take a deep breath. It'll all be fine."

"But—"

"Deep breath," Chaol said again.

Dorian did as he said, and Chaol wrapped his arms comfortingly around him.

Several minutes later, Dorian pulled back, seeming at least a little better.

"Could we go see Sutton? If he's awake, we might be able to get him to testify," Dorian suggested, not wanting to continue on the previous subject.

Chaol watched him for a second. "We could go chat right now, if you'd like."

"Sure. It'll take my mind off of everything else."

"Alright then. Let's go." Chaol offered a small smile, and the two hurried away.

 **Chapter Release Date: July 29, 2018**

 **A/N: Sorry for not posting last week when I was supposed to. I got super busy and it totally slipped my mind. And for forgetting to post last night. So I'm posting today and tomorrow night to make it up.**


	46. Chapter 46: A New Name

**Chapter Forty-Six: A New Name**

When Dorian and Chaol showed up in the hospital, the lord was conscious, but his skin was a sickly gray color and he did not appear to be in good health.

Chaol nodded to Jeydon. "You may go now."

Jeydon smiled. "Alright," he said. "Hello, Dorian."

"Hi," Dorian whispered, not meeting the guard's eyes. He felt too scared of what was going to happen to him to be as upbeat as Jeydon always was.

"You okay?" Jeydon asked with a frown.

"Yeah, no, I'm fine," Dorian quickly clarified.

"Alright. If you ever need someone to talk to, I know that you don't know me super well, but I'm here for you."

Dorian made a small sound in the back of his throat to show that he understood and allowed Jeydon to pass him.

Then Chaol and Dorian sat down next to the lord.

"Hello," Chaol said. "We don't know each other very well, but, as you know, I am the Captain of the Guard, and I helped save your life earlier today."

"I thank you for that," Sutton rasped.

"Yes, well, it's kind of my job," Chaol smiled. "But I need to ask you a few questions.."

"Alright," the lord said. "Whatever I can do to help."

"First off—why would someone want to kill you?"

"I don't know! All I did was tell the king I disagreed with something. It wasn't that big of a deal, really, but then he started—" The lord started to cough. "Sorry. He started making me do things that had to do with that. And I was so stupid. I told someone about the king's plans. That must be what this is about."

"Okay, alright," Chaol said slowly. "What did it all have to do with, then? Who did you tell about the plans? What are the plans? Do you know who was sent to kill you?" The last question was a bit obsolete, but he needed to ask it anyway—standard procedures. He had his notepad in his hand ready to start writing down the lord's response.

"I—" The lord blinked furiously, as though there was something in his eyes. "I feel dizzy," he murmured before collapsing back onto his bed.

"Sir? Sir, are you alright?" Chaol asked frantically. "Nurse! Doctor!"

The doctors and nurses rushed over, but the man was already beginning to foam at the mouth. His eyes rolled back in his head.

A nurse shoved Chaol out of the way, almost knocking him over. She grabbed the lord's wrist, taking his pulse.

"Nothing," she said.

One of the doctors started CPR, but to no avail. Sutton was gone.

* * *

Chaol flung open the door to Dorian's room, closing quickly after Dorian had entered as well.

"We can't talk about this to _anyone,_ Dorian. Not anyone! Not Jamie or Jeydon or whoever! Do you understand? As far as Jamie and Jeydon know, we're ending our investigation here, and everyone else—they can't know anything!" His voice was clear and fierce and full of worry.

Dorian just nodded. He couldn't find the energy to do anything else.

"Do you understand, Dorian?" Chaol asked louder. "Otherwise we're going to end up like the rest of them! Answer me!"

"Yes! Yes, I understand, Chaol," Dorian yelped. "Jeeze."

"Okay," Chaol said, letting out a breath.

"We should check the list for any changes," Dorian murmured, half hoping that Chaol would not hear. He hated that place. He didn't know why, but it felt wrong in every manner.

"Good idea," Chaol said instantaneously. "Let's go."

And so, once more, they dashed from Dorian's tower.

* * *

The two young men crept into the back of the library, making sure to stay away from the various people milling about, seeing as getting caught would not be a good addition to their already-hectic days.

"How often do you come down here?" Dorian asked as they climbed down the latter. "I've only been today and that one time before."

"Oh, I've been about four or five times now. I just like to come here and make sure that everything's still in order. I don't know. I know that sounds weird."

"No, not really. I get it, I guess."

The two landed in the warmly lit office-like space at the bottom of the latter. The list was on the desk where it had always been before, and Dorian walked over to it immediately.

"One of the question marked names has been removed," he said right away, having memorized it long before. "But two more have been added." He froze. "Chaol, you need to stop investigating this."

"What? Why?" Chaol asked, concerned.

"Because your name is one of the new question mark ones."

"Really? But I'm not a court member!"

"I don't think that really matters to whoever's doing this, and it won't change their ability to kill you."

"I can defend myself, Dorian. And besides, this is my job! To question, to discover, to protect. I'm not going to quit just because I'm in danger, because the reality is that I'm always in danger with this job of mine! But if it makes you feel any better, I'll try to be better about keeping it from the public eye."

"Chaol," Dorian began, but then a voice came from the shadows, the same one that they'd heard the first time.

The two glanced at each other. Chaol shrugged.

"Well, I think it's time to go," Chaol said, and shoved Dorian up the latter. Dorian gave a slight protest, but helped himself up the latter without giving much resistance.

When they got back to Dorian's apartment for about the third time that night, Chaol turned to face Dorian with a small smile on his face.

"I believe that you were saying something, Dorian. I think it was about my job and being on the list."

"Yeah. Listen, I love you and I don't want to lose you. I can handle it if I'm on the chopping block, but not if you are. I know you're never going to feel the same way—you're always going to want to plow head first into danger—but I don't want you in the direct path of a murderer that is already thinking about killing you." He looked down at his feet in frustration and worry. "I know that you've always been willing for that sort of thing to happen if it means that you'll help someone out, but this seems so much more… _intense._ I mean, you're on a hit list! And you can get yourself off of it but you're choosing not to!" He gave Chaol a frustrated look.

"Dorian," Chaol said cautiously. "I'm not going to stop this investigation. I'm going to keep going until I get whoever's doing this locked up. I understand your worry, and I'll be careful, I really will, but there's nothing that you can do to get me to end my part in all of this. As it is, no one else seems up to the task of tracking this guy down. I'm sorry."

Chaol couldn't leave the rest of those people on the list to die, because if he stopped that investigation, no one else would continue it.

He wrapped his arms around Dorian. "I'm sorry," he said again.

Finally, after a few long moments of silence, Dorian frowned and said, "Have you been chased out of there every single time?"

Chaol cocked his head. "No, actually. Only when…" Dorian's gaze met Chaol's in realization. "Only when you're in there," he whispered.

 **Chapter Release Date: July 30, 2018**


	47. Chapter 47: Conversation With the Queen

**A/N: It is so hard coming up with fifty-five chapter titles… So yes, this one is a copy of chapter 36.**

 **Chapter Forty-Seven: A Conversation With the Queen**

Dorian sat beside his mother for the first time since the previous afternoon. It seemed like it had been a decade ago. After everything that had happened, it didn't seem possible that he'd stormed out less than 24 hours ago. But he supposed it hadn't truly been that long, even if it seemed like years.

Now, he was in her private chambers to have lunch with her. He wasn't sure why she'd asked for him to meet him in there, but he was praying for nothing bad, even if he was expecting the worst. He suspected she might reprimand him, tell him that he "had a choice" or "it was just wrong" or "that he could just pretend." It, of course, could also be her kicking him out, which he most certainly hoped would not happen. Afterall, she was his mother, and no truly loving mother would leave her own son to fend for himself because she thought it was wrong for him to love whomever he loved.

No, that would come from his father, if his father didn't kill him first. That was what he was most concerned about—that she had told (or was going to tell) his father.

He picked at his food wordlessly, waiting for her to start a conversation. Better to sit in uncomfortable silence than to say the wrong thing.

"Dorian," Georgina finally spoke. "I want you to know that I haven't told your father about what you said to me, but I think that you really should. Your father is a good man and he deserves to know the truth."

That was a relief. Even if she wanted him to say something, at least she herself had not. "No," Dorian said, trying to remain calm. "No, he'll be so upset! I can't tell him. You have no idea what he'd do!"

"And neither do you," Georgina said firmly. "He is a good man at heart and I'm sure that, even if he is at first disapproving, will come around eventually. I know he has done some questionable things, but you know all he wants is for this continent to be a unified bunch of safe, happy people! And besides, even if that weren't true, you have to believe that he would extend the courtesy of kindness to his heir and more importantly, his son!"

Dorian stared at his mother. Safe, happy people? A unified country? A _good person_? He knew that the king often didn't tell her everything that his operation consisted of, but how could she really delude herself so much as to think that he was a good person? What had he done to convince her of his _purity_?

Dorian had—at one point in time—felt the same was that she did. But he had been a _child_. She was an adult. By the time he was ten he had come to a relative realization of what his father was, even if he hadn't been ready to admit it yet. But his father was a murderer and a tyrant, and that was abundantly clear to anybody with a mind of their own.

"That isn't even a little bit true!" Dorian groaned. "He's a horrid person and does awful things to everyone around him! All he wants is money and power and the ability to play God. I don't know how you could possibly be so blind as to have missed that! Because only a fool could honestly think that he has any resemblance to a good man. Only a fool could think he is anywhere near even _being_ a man. Only a fool could view him as anything other than what he is—a _monster_." He glared at her.

"That's it," Georgina snapped. "I won't be having you speak to me like that! I'm going to tell the king, even if you aren't, because he deserves to know. I am going to prove to you that he is a decent man that will love and accept his son. I refuse to believe that I married a man as awful as you think he is."

She stood from the table and marched from the room.

As soon as the door closed Dorian broke down sobbing.

He should have tried to be gentler, tried to argue civilly, not just blown his top off at her. Now she was mad and had something to prove and there was nothing he could do to stop her. Nothing. Nothing at all. He would be lucky if his father let him live in the palace anymore.

He had been such a fool. He should never have said anything to anyone. Lisa had been completely right, and now he wouldn't even get to see her again. As soon as his father knew, Dorian would be but a memory of this castle. And Chaol… he would never see Chaol again.

His sobs came out harder, his breath quick and worried with the sudden reality of all this. The sudden reality that he was facing death.

* * *

The Queen of Adarlan stood outside the door to her chambers and listened to her son cry.

While Dorian could often seem softer than the king would like, he never let his parents see him cry.

She grimaced. Did he really think this was such a bad idea? It was her husband that they were talking about! Surely he would understand? And even if the king might be a slightly hesitant at first, it wasn't as though he'd hang the boy!

She paused. Maybe it wasn't her secret to tell. And maybe the king really would react as poorly as Dorian seemed to think that he would.

She listened for a moment longer and decided that she couldn't do this to her son. It was childish to try to prove a point in such a manner as this.

She stepped back into the room and watched as Dorian quickly straightened himself out and wiped away his tears.

"Er… mother," he said cautiously. He swallowed hard.

"I'm sorry," she sighed. "I won't tell him. I was wrong."

"Thank you," Dorian croaked out. He still looked upset, but perhaps a little less so.

She strode over and hugged him. She hadn't done that in the recent past—or really ever—as the king had always told her it was better for young boys to learn to be independent from the others in their life, but she hated that idea. She felt that everyone deserved equal treatment as children. Afterall, it wasn't the child's fault what they looked like or what they had been born with or to what family.

Dorian melted into her body and continued to cry, and she held him until he was done.

 **Chapter Release Date: August 4, 2018**


	48. Chapter 48: A Meeting of the Guard

**A/N: Hey guys. Sorry for another short chapter. I hope you like it anyway. And sorry for forgetting to post yesterday—it completely slipped my mind.**

 **Chapter Forty-Eight: A Meeting of the Guard**

The pen in Chaol's hand trembled as he struggled to remember his train of thought. It wouldn't come back to him, though, no matter how hard he tried, seeing as something else was taking up his mind at the moment. Or rather, someone.

That someone was Dorian. He couldn't get the young man out of his head, and he hadn't been able to for a while. He'd always just shoved it back in his mind, figuring that he had no chance so he shouldn't even bother thinking about it, but now he couldn't use that excuse. Dorian played for his team— _and_ liked him that way—so he it wasn't like he could keep saying he had no chance.

He had as much of a shot with Dorian as he did with any straight girl, so he couldn't just tell himself to lay off it anymore. Because there was a chance, even if it was small.

But he'd already told Dorian his thoughts on being gay, and he'd made them pretty damn clear at that. Dorian thought that Chaol thought that everything having to do with being gay was awful and terrible. And to be honest, he had really had in the past, but now he was beginning to second guess himself. But how could he tell Dorian that? Dorian would just think that Chaol was only saying it to try and get back in his good graces. And even if Dorian believed him, the path to total forgiveness was a long one. Sure, Dorian had a crush on Chaol, but that didn't mean he would be willing to act on _anything_. Yes, they were friends again, but Chaol had been horrible to Dorian, and there wasn't any changing that. It would take a long time to totally mend their relationship.

But this was a problem for later.

He couldn't be bothered about friends and dating with everything going on in the castle. And he especially couldn't be bothered right now—he had a meeting about to start with all of the Royal Guard, and he couldn't afford to not be focused. He had to get Dorian out of his head.

Sure, the meeting was probably just going to be about the usual things. Well, _thing_ was a little bit more accurate, since all they ever talked about anymore was the murders, even though they were no longer supposed to be investigating them as thoroughly.

But he had to go anyway, even though he could practically recite by heart what they were going to say while there.

* * *

"Good morning everyone," Chaol said as they all entered. He hated these meetings. Unfortunately, they were mandatory and really quite necessary. They were as dull as court meetings had been, although there was the bonus of a little bit more mystery added into the mix on occasion.

Jamie started out by reading off all of the cases that they'd dealt with in the past month since the last meeting, giving a brief explanation of how they'd been solved—or if they hadn't been solved.

This was how most meetings started—a quick recap of everything that had been done and everything that hadn't been done in preparation for the following month of work.

After that, Brullo announced all of the reassignments that various guard could expect. Most of them that guarded specific people rarely changed placed, but today a few did.

Brullo also listed off the various royal gatherings and excursions that would have to be dealt with and everyone half listened, seeing as those were almost always excruciatingly dull and no one wanted to deal with them.

"And now we open it up to open discussion," Brullo concluded and sat back down.

"Great," said a guard named Ky. "I'm just curious, has any progress been made on the murder case?"

 _And there's the start of it,_ Chaol thought to himself. He glanced at the clock. _Only two more hours of this to go._ It wasn't exactly a reassuring amount of time left.

About an hour into the open discussion, Jeydon turned to Chaol. "And what do you have to say on the matter, Captain? You've been silent so far."

Chaol shot Jeydon a look, who simply smiled back. Jeydon knew how much Chaol hated these discussions and how he felt like they always went in the exact same loop, but he often insisted on including Chaol in the conversation for some strange reason.

Chaol gave a grunt, and then sat up a little bit straighter. "I think that it has to do with the king."

Everyone quieted down at that. Some of them tended to have slightly off-topic discussions during the meetings, and no one ever bothered to stop them.

"Not directly," he quickly added. "But I think that it could be some psycho maniac obsessed with the king and his kingdom, if you look at the list of people that have been killed. You all need to be on the lookout, and make sure that you stay close to the people that you're guarding. Don't let them go off on their own unless you know exactly what they're doing, when to expect them back, and that they're completely safe. I'm serious." He met all of their individual gazes. Sure, he couldn't tell them _exactly_ what he thought was happening, but he at least had to _try_ to get them to keep their guards up, so to speak. He didn't particularly care about the royals that his men were keeping safe, but he did care about the guards themselves, and they needed to know at least _some_ of what was happening.

"Captain," Ky started. "Do you think that lord who died a few days ago, the one that you saved the life of—before he then died—could have been connected to this in any way?"

"I think he was definitely another intended hit," Chaol said. "Everything about it matched the previous ones, even if I did end up there right before he actually died. And whatever happened to him in the hospital I doubt was an accident."

There were some silent nods. This was some of the first new information they'd had in a while.

Then Chaol flopped back in his seat and stared off into space, where he remained for the next hour until the end of the meeting, at which point he sluggishly walked back to his own room feeling very tired of everything all of the sudden.

 **Chapter Release Date: August 12, 2018**


	49. Chapter 49: A Secret is Spilled

**A/N: Chapter seven squared! Yay!**

 **Chapter Forty-Nine: A Secret is Spilled**

On the same day of Chaol's guard meeting, Dorian's life changed for good.

It happened late in the evening when Dorian was sitting in his father's study while the king filled out some paperwork. He wasn't entirely sure why he'd been called there, but he thought it might have just been for an opinion on the king's latest idea.

The King of Adarlan was saying something about a competition that Dorian wasn't entirely paying attention to, but then he said something about a criminal in the castle, and Dorian realized he should have been listening.

"I apologize, Father. I was not listening as well as I should have been. I haven't been sleeping well lately," he lied. "Would you be so kind as to repeat that?"

"No, of course," the king smiled. Dorian wasn't sure why the man seemed to be being so nice. "I understand. It only gets worse when you become king, I'm afraid. The not sleeping. I was simply saying that I think perhaps I should host a competition."

"For what?" Dorian asked, confused as to how this had to do with the part about criminals.

"So that I may have a champion." Dorian frowned at his father, still lost. "I wish to bring all of the worst criminals from around our country under one roof. I'm thinking I could have a few of the court members each choose a champion of theirs and then have them compete to be my champion."

"And what would that champion do?" Dorian asked. Because really—even his father wouldn't bring terrorists and murderers into his house out of the goodness of his heart—if he _had_ a heart, that was.

"They will do what the royal guards will not."

Those words sent shivers down Dorian's spine. And even when his father continued with, "It would help to bring down this murderer that we're dealing with," Dorian's mind was not eased, since he knew through Chaol that his father was putting a glove over the royal guard to keep them from figuring things out.

Why would he bring in _criminals_ , of all people—much more ruthless folks than the royal guard—if he'd already made it clear he didn't want this killer caught? Unless, of course, he was telling the truth in everything he'd said to Chaol on the matter, which Dorian found unlikely. Or he just wanted a good front—tell people it was to stop the murders but instead… instead, maybe he just wanted a better killer than Perrington.

But of course, the prince knew he could say nothing, for otherwise his father would know just how much Dorian himself knew about the king's plans and actions.

"But enough of that," the king added. "It feels as though it is such a solemn topic. It does pain me to know the perril my court seems to be in." Dorian had a feeling that was a straight up lie. "Why don't we discuss something lighter, like marriage?"

"Is that why you asked me to come here today?" Dorian groaned. "Because I don't want to talk about it!"

"Actually, it is why I wanted you to meet with me, and we do need to talk about it. Your mother has informed me that you have been resistant to her attempts, so I thought that I should perhaps have a go at it."

"I don't want to get married yet! I want to have a life!" Dorian knew he was getting close to a line, but at the moment, he didn't particularly care.

"I know that you want a life, my son, but you don't get to have the one that you desire. Your life has already been drawn out in stone. There is no changing it, unless you wish for your brother to become king."

Dorian pursed his lips and straightened up.

"That's better," the king smirked. "Now, I know that you haven't found a woman that you have fallen in love with yet—except, perhaps, for Rosamund—but that's alright! Love doesn't matter in a marriage. Love just makes for messiness and complications. All that matters is that you marry someone of high status that you can work with. As long as you can work together, there shouldn't be a problem."

Dorian didn't meet his father's gaze. "Is that really all you think matters?"

"Right here and now, yes. All that matters is that the person you marry has status and good lineage and can carry the weight of the crown."

"So all that matters is appearance?"

"Yes. I see you have a problem with that." Dorian gave a slight nod, even though he knew that he shouldn't. "Is that the only reason you have a problem with an arranged marriage with some woman?"

Dorian froze. There was something about the way his father said "woman." His mother had sworn she wouldn't tell his father. There wasn't any way he could know… right?

"Yes," Dorian said cautiously, not wanting to land himself in undue hot water. His heart was pounding in his chest as he said it.

"Don't you lie to me!" the king screamed. Dorian jumped, suddenly quite terrified of his father—the king's reddening face, pulsing temple, and furious eyes. "You'll find that most of the help will do anything to get a pay raise—even listen in on a conversation with the Crown Prince and his mother."

Dorian's heart dropped and almost stopped. There had been no one in the room… unless someone had been at the door. And why was his father only bringing this up now? It had been days!

"Say something," the king growled.

Dorian flinched. "Who told you these lies?" he asked, blood rushing in his ears. He could barely think—this could be the end of… everything, he thought, the devastating reality of it forcing its way into his mind.

A small smile spread across the king's face. "You know, you can't lie worth a damn." Dorian wanted to cry. He had no idea what his father was going to do, and he didn't want to think about it. "A maid was listening behind a closed door. She wasn't sure what to do, at first, but eventually came to her senses and told me the truth. Who she was, though, is of no concern to you. Now," the king continued, his voice and face softening slightly, like he was trying to pretend to be an actual, caring father. "Please, Dorian, be honest with me, that's all I want," he said, sounding almost like he meant it. "Is what she said true? Are you… have you associated with…"

"Yes, it's true," Dorian said, knowing it wouldn't matter if he lied or not—his father wouldn't care, one way or another. It was true, no matter what. "I'm gay."

That was exactly what the king had wanted—a reason to get rid of his least favorite son. "Then why don't you leave this room. I want you to leave if you're going to be spewing such garbage, pretending like whatever that is is okay." The king's tone was deadly quiet and Dorian could practically _hear_ rage dripping off of it.

"Then maybe I will!" Dorian snapped. He rose from his chair and stormed out of the room without looking back, knowing that it might be the last time he saw his father.

 **Chapter Release Date: August 26, 2018**

 **A/N: Hey, sorry for not posting last week—things got hectic. And for not posting yesterday, either. I'll post again tomorrow, too, to make it up.**


	50. Chapter 50: Ready to Run

**A/N: Can you believe it? Chapter fifty! That means only five chapters to go… But don't worry, a sequel is in stock, probably coming sometime in 2019.**

 **Chapter Fifty: Ready to Run**

 _Bang. Bang. Bang._

Chaol groaned, rubbing his eyes. What time was it? Probably not late, but he'd found himself falling asleep earlier and earlier recently.

 _That's what happens when you keep agreeing to do extra shifts and teach extra training sessions,_ he grumbled to himself.

 _Bang. Bang. Bang._

He hated people waking him up when he was trying to sleep.

"Coming," he yelled as he flopped out of his bed. Who was at his door?

He glanced out the window. It was already dark! Of course, it was autumn, so it was getting dark out earlier, but still!

He stumbled through the darkness and to the door, pushing it open and squinting into the light. "Wassup?" he mumbled, still mostly asleep.

Dorian broke down sobbing as soon as he saw Chaol, who was completely shocked.

"Oh, hey, it's okay," he said, pulled out of his tired haze.

He led Dorian inside and closed the door behind the two of them, at which point Dorian just held onto Chaol tighter and cried even harder.

Chaol, only in his bathrobe, tightened the not on his thin clothing choice and wrapped his arms around Dorian's back, holding the boy close.

"It's alright. Whatever happened, it's going to be alright," he murmured in Dorian's ear. "What did happen?" he asked, realizing that he still had no clue.

But Dorian didn't answer. He just stood there, clutching Chaol like his life depended on it. So Chaol let the _why_ of everything slide and directed Dorian to his own bed, lying down next to the prince.

"You're going to be just fine," he said. "But you need to get some rest."

Dorian nodded silently and yanked off his shoes. He tossed his coat to the side, curling up on Chaol's bed, closing his eyes without another word.

* * *

"I've said it before, but I'll say it again: This happens way too often," Chaol groaned as he sat up.

"I disagree," Dorian said. "I kind of like it! I mean, if we're talking about spending the night together and not the tragic happenings of life."

Chaol snorted. "No, I mean the spending the night. And you just like it because you have a crush on me."

"That is not true," Dorian said, slightly hurt. "I like spending the night with you because you're my friend and I like hanging out with you! Although," he added, "not as much recently."

"About that…" Chaol grimaced. "I'm sorry about what I said about being gay. I believed it then, but I'm starting to see that I was wrong, and if you'll give me a chance, I'll really try hard to understand."

"Alright," Dorian sighed. "I can't stay mad at you forever."

The two hugged, but then Chaol remembered something.

"As for the 'tragic happenings of life,' I'm sorry about that, too. And, about that… what happened last night? You seemed pretty upset."

Dorian looked down at his hands and grudgingly began to explain the conversation with his father the previous night.

"Dorian, I don't know what to tell you," Chaol said, sighing. "You should have kept lying; he would have believed you! How could you have told him the truth?"

But before Dorian could answer, there was a knock at the door.

"Saved by the door," Chaol muttered as he went to answer it.

There, in the doorway, stood Queen Georgina.

"Hello, Chaol," she smiled. "I can call you that, right?" she asked as she walked into the room, her dress trailing behind her.

She paused when she saw Dorian laying in Chaol's bed half undressed.

"Well, I have to say, I didn't know that you two were…"

"We're not," Dorian quickly said.

"Alright," she responded, seeming to accept it. She sounded like she was very worried.

"Why are you here, Your Majesty?" Chaol asked.

"Please, call me Georgina," she responded.

"Of course," Chaol said, sounding like he probably wouldn't stop.

"I am here because my son was not in his room and I didn't know where else he might be besides here. And yes, I did check the library," she added as Dorian opened his mouth. "And the garden. But, listen, my reason for being here isn't simply that I couldn't find you. I heard what happened with the king."

Dorian grimaced and nodded.

The queen wrapped her arms around Dorian and said, "I wouldn't be surprised if he kicked you out. I'm sorry to say it, but it's true."

"I know," Dorian said. "I knew that as soon as he started talking. As soon as I said he was right."

"And why did you?" Georgina asked. "Why did you after begging me not to?"

"Because I'm stupid," Dorian grumbled. "And because of him. I mean, you didn't see him—he wouldn't've believed me even if I'd sworn to my grave that he was wrong."

"You're not stupid," Georgina said. "You're just like every other teenager out there." Dorian grimaced at that. "If you do get kicked out," she continued, "I'm afraid there's not much I can do. I'm sorry, I really am, but my husband will make sure of it."

"I've got it covered," Chaol butted in. "I have a house just outside of Rifthold that he can use if he needs. And if the situation requires it, I'll take him as far away from here as I possibly can."

"You would do that for my son? And throw away everything that you've worked for here?"

"All I've ever wanted is for him to be safe," Chaol shrugged. "And if that means ditching everything here, I'm willing to do it. I think that a life away from this kingdom would be nice, actually. And besides—I'd do anything for Dorian. He's my best friend."

Georgina cocked her head. "Are you sure you're straight?"

Dorian let out a laugh, and Chaol just shook his head, amused.

"Because I think you'd be good for my son," she smiled. "And I'm glad that he has you. Do you swear you'll always protect him?"

"I do," Chaol responded.

"Good. Then when you must, get him as far away from here as you can, but don't ever stop working to put that bastard of a king where he belongs—in jail." She gave a small sniff. "Because after everything he's done… after everything he's done, he is most certainly not the man that I married, the man that, while I never loved, I always believed could be good."

Dorian put his hand on his mother's arm. "Listen, I hate to break the moment, but don't I get any say in this? I want Chaol to stay here! He has his dream job and everything; Chaol, I can't ask you to do this."

"You don't get a say in it," Chaol said, putting a hand on Dorian's shoulder. "I know that this all sucks and everything, but if you have to go, you have to go, and I'm coming with you no matter what you tell me. My dream job is keeping people safe. I can't do that here anymore."

"Fine, okay," Dorian sighed. "But what about the murders and everything?"

Chaol looked at his feet. "Someone'll figure it out eventually. Maybe not as quickly as I would have, but they will. I bet that Jeydon or Jamie could."

"I need to go," the queen said. "I'm sorry that I can't stay for longer." She kissed her son on the cheek and shook hands with Chaol before exiting the room.

 **Chapter Release Date: August 27, 2018**


	51. Chapter 51: A Proposition

**A/N: September first. We're closing in on a full year since I published the first chapter of this story. It's almost been a year since** _ **Vampires Don't Exist**_ **ended. Can you believe that? And a year since I published** _ **Just One Dance**_ **.**

 **Also, happy back to school season! *crickets* Really? No one happy to go back? *silence* Alright, on with the fan fiction, then!**

 **Chapter Fifty-One: A Proposition**

As the queen walked out, Dorian turned to Chaol.

"I'm going to talk to my father about the murders."

"What? No, Dorian, you're already in enough trouble as it is. You don't want to land yourself in even worse of a mess!" His tone was warning, but his eyes were concerned. Dorian appreciated that. "If you talk to him, you'll simultaneously eliminate any bit of surprise and edge we have along with any bit of good regard he has for you!"

"Exactly! I'm already in so much trouble, how could it possibly get any worse? And someone needs to tell him that they know he's behind it! Maybe he'll think twice about it—we could go to the press with this, completely destroy him. And besides, if he's behind this all then maybe we could get him right now. All we need is for him to admit to what he's done." He wasn't sure what he'd do yet, but he was going to make sure that his father didn't leave that room without being convicted or dead.

"We don't know he's behind it, though!" Chaol groaned. "We only know that Perrington's involved! And sure, all signs point to your father as well, but we have no evidence!"

"I don't care that we don't have evidence. I need to talk to him about this. In private, where hopefully he'll give me some answers. This has been going on for far too long now."

"And I don't care that you think that, Dorian! He could literally kill you for this! Especially if we're right about him! Your name is already on the list, Dorian, as a possibility. Do you really want it to become inevitable?"

"I'm going, Chaol, and you can't stop me." His voice was so forceful that Chaol decided that he better step aside. In reality, Dorian made sure to give Chaol's mind a nice little push with his magic. It was just to calm Chaol down a little, and he swore silently that he'd never do it again. He just had a feeling in his gut that confronting his father was what he needed to do.

"Fine. But this is a really bad idea, and if you end up dead because of this I will never forgive you for it!"

"Noted," Dorian responded, and marched out of the room. "Things need to be fixed," he called over his shoulder.

Chaol groaned. This was not going to end well, but sometimes, there was just no stopping the prince.

* * *

Dorian marched into the throne room where his father was lounging on his glass chair examining a sheet of paper.

"Leave us," Dorian commanded, his gaze fixed on the king.

The king nodded to the guards and servants in the room, who all filed out.

"What do you want?" the king asked. "I sense a fire burning in your soul. What's gotten you so riled up, my son?"

"This has to end, father. I know what's going on."

"Do you now?" the king asked, raising an eyebrow. "And what is it that you think you know?"

"I know that you're behind the murders. I know that you are considering killing me. And I know you are considering Chaol, too. And several others as well. They've defied you, these people, and you've been sending Perrington to fix them up, haven't you? To shut their mouths forever. And that lord that Chaol saved? You killed him yourself, didn't you? When you walked in to talk to Chaol you slipped the lord some sort of poison so that he couldn't tell anyone about what had really happened."

Dorian was struggling to keep a hold on his magic. He'd been practicing for years now, but he still had slight issues every once and awhile, especially when he got emotional, and accusing his father of murder was pretty emotional for him, and it was all topped off by their conversation the previous night.

He felt ripples of cold move through the air.

"No, you're right," his father cooed. "What I'm doing is wrong. And I promise that I'll stop."

Dorian paused. That was not an honest answer. And paired with a simple admission? "What's the catch?" he asked skeptically. The King of Adarlan would never so easily surrender himself, nor would admit to something such as this.

"Such a perceptive boy," his father smiled. "I was thinking we could duel. I want you gone, you want me gone—or at the very least, locked up," he added when he saw Dorian's face. "We both know that each of us feels that the other is an abomination, so winner gets their way. Loser… gets to see the afterlife."

"A duel?" Dorian asked. "I can't agree to that."

He knew he'd lose. He hadn't practiced with a sword in ages, and that was the weapon his father was sure to choose—he was virtually unstoppable with Nothung in his grasp.

The king would come out on top of this, no matter what. Not only was his father skilled with a sword, but he was also an incredibly smart man. He would always be several steps ahead of Dorian, no matter what the prince attempted.

And not only that, but this man was his _father._ No matter what the king had done in the past—he was still Dorian's father.

"I think you can. You're afraid you'll lose. But I know you better than that—you think more about others than yourself." The king said it with a sneer. "You know I won't stop because you beg me to. You also know you'll have to leave here—one way or another. I want you out of my way. So, you can either die with dignity, trying to protect people"—the king rolled his eyes—"or you can live in exile the rest of your life, or end up dead anyway—because that's how I'd prefer you. Dead men can't speak. So, what do you say? A duel?"

"What is this really?" Dorian cocked his head. What did his father have in that odd mind of his? He seemed so confident with himself—what did he have up his sleeve?

"A magic duel," his father whispered.

Dorian watched his father. "How do you know about that? The magic?"

"Because I can feel it inside of you, growing. You still have magic, though everyone else does not, because of me. I freed it for myself, and in doing so I must have passed on that freedom to you without knowing it. But despite not knowing of my mistake, I started noticing what was going on inside of you a while back—probably when you were around 14 or 15. Tell me—when did you discover it inside of yourself?"

Dorian calculated his response, but then decided that it shouldn't get him in any more trouble than he was already in. After all, his father was proposing a duel to the death.

"I was 13."

"And when did you start practicing?"

"How do you know I've been practicing?"

The king laughed softly. "I love your spark. You always want to learn more, and you ask the right questions. It's such a shame that you enjoy sticking your nose in places where it shouldn't be. After all, this could have easily been avoided if you'd just done as you were told, believed what was said. Regardless, I know because of how much this has grown inside of you. It would not have done so naturally."

Dorian nodded. "Alright." His father wouldn't stop—he understood that. He had no choice. One way or another, this was going to end—tonight.

"Is that an 'alright' to dueling?" the king asked.

"Yes. I will duel with you." Dorian took a deep breath. "To the death."

 **Chapter Release Date: September 1, 2018**


	52. Chapter 52: A Final Trip to the Library

**A/N: Only three chapters to go! Also, to answer a review on the last chapter—Celaena won't be in this story, but she's going to be a big part of the next one. She and Dorian will run into each other at some point, but before that, the story is going to shift back and forth between their points of view. And thank you for your reviews, to all of you that have left them. You have no idea what they mean to me. =)**

 **Chapter Fifty-Two: A Final Visit to the Library**

" _Yes. I will duel with you. To the death."_

Chaol covered his mouth as he listened to Dorian say that. He'd followed Dorian from the room. He might have agreed to let Dorian go, but he didn't want Dorian to be completely on his own. So many things could go wrong—he wasn't about to let his best friend walk to his death without backup.

He had listened to much of the latter part of the conversation, enough so to know that Dorian had magic—as confusing and strange as that sounded—and that he'd known about it for a while. He was hurt that Dorian hadn't told him, but he understood why. Something like could easily have gotten Dorian killed, were the wrong person to find out, and Dorian knew that better than anyone. He wouldn't have been surprised if Dorian hadn't told anyone at all—not even Lisa. And besides—Chaol knew that he'd proven himself to not be the most reliable friend at times. He could hon up to that much, at least.

He ignoring all of that: Dorian had just agreed to duel to the death with his father. There was no way that the king would propose something like that unless the man was either absolutely sure he would win or had something up his sleeve, and Chaol was pretty damn sure it was the former—either way, this wouldn't end well for Dorian.

He loved Dorian, but the kid could be reckless. Dorian was probably in there thinking that this was his only option—that, no matter what, his father was going to hunt him, so might as well go down trying to end a horror two years in the making.

But that was just it—he _loved_ Dorian, no matter _how_ reckless he was. He loved him. He couldn't let Dorian die not knowing that.

 _I can't let this go through. I can't let the man that I love die._ That was the first time that Chaol had really allowed himself to admit that—that he loved Dorian—and now that he had, there was no going back.

But how could he possibly help? He had no magic; he would only get in the way, especially if Dorian really had been practicing for all that time.

Perhaps the library would have something to help. _But it will take me so long to get there!_

But he had nothing better that he could think of to do, besides tell someone else, and that could end poorly since he had no idea who was truly loyal to whom, and if he chose the wrong person it could result in Dorian's death.

He flew down the stairs and past all of the guards to the library, hell blaising in his eyes.

"Hey, Chaol, what's wrong?" Jamie asked as Chaol passed, but Chaol gave no response. Stopping meant giving up valuable time, and every single second he wasted ment Dorian was closer to death than the last.

He hurtled himself into the library, ignoring the librarian that consequently began cursing at him to slow down ("You'll break something!") and he dashed to the back as quickly as he could.

"Open," he whispered, and the hatch dropped down.

Rather than climbing down the ladder, he jumped (and almost broke his foot doing so), but got up as fast as he could, ignoring the ache in his ankle.

He darted over to the list first, and saw that one of the names at the bottom of the list had been moved. While he couldn't actually read the list, he recognized the symbols that had spelled out Dorian's name were now at the very top of the list.

He froze.

How could the author of the list have known?

Chaol's thoughts were interrupted by a familiar voice.

"You shouldn't be here. I thought I'd made that clear enough before."

It was the voice that had chased Chaol and Dorian out in the past, except now it was so much clearer. And louder. It sounded as if…

Something brushed Chaol's back. He yelped and whirled around.

 _As if the person were actually there._

"Hello, Chaol," Duke Perrington drawled. "The king warned you not to get involved. Unfortunately, you clearly didn't listen closely enough."

"We were right then," Chaol whispered, recovering from his momentary shock.

"We?" Perrington frowned. "Who else was involved?" He glanced at the list on the table and then it seemed to dawn on him. "Of course the prince was helping. Why wouldn't he? You have no magical ability; you would have needed him to get down here the first time. I _had_ been wondering about that."

"What is this place?" Chaol asked. He needed to keep Perrington talking until he could get out of the cave. He started to edge towards the ladder. Finding something down here to help Dorian wouldn't matter if they were both too dead to use it.

"It's an old place for those of former magical ability to stay—it would restore one's former powers, if only for the time they remained inside it. Only they can enter, although if they bring a non magical person down with them, that person would perhaps be able to return. That is why we—the king and I—took various precautions. A foreboding feeling meant to enter the mind of anyone nearby, a creature to scare them out. I have to admit, I thought it was enough to keep curious people out. Which is why I so foolishly thought I had simply misplaced the list, rather than thinking it had been stolen. It took me a while to realize that you must have taken it."

"Speaking of the list," Chaol butted in, "how did this whole thing work? I mean, what was going on behind the scenes?" Chaol didn't expect Perrington to answer, but he was genuinely curious, and whatever he could do to buy himself a little more time so that he could get back to Dorian alive was something he would try.

"It was simple, really. The king would order the hit and I'd carry it out. That way, his hands weren't dirty and he could put me to use. We used the list to communicate. You see, it's spelled to change to match what the king is feeling at that moment, which made it easier to not get caught discussing something of the sort."

Chaol frowned. "Why are you telling me this?" He was almost to the ladder. If he could just get up it before Perrington, he might stand a chance.

"Because," Perrington grinned. "I think that you deserve to know what's really going on before you die."

"Before I die?" Chaol asked, alarmed.

"Yes," Perrington said. "I know that the king and his son currently duel above us with magic, so why should we not duel with swords instead? I'll give you a chance to fight for your life, but to be clear: You will not win. Whether you agree or not, I will end you."

Chaol cocked his head. He was pretty sure that this was just a ploy to stop him from helping Dorian.

"What if I say no?"

"Trust that you cannot climb that ladder while I am still alive."

Chaol glanced behind him at the rungs, so temptingly close. "Will it allow me to climb if you are dead?" Perrington could easily have cursed it so that Chaol couldn't leave in any outcome. Then again, the man was cocky enough that he might be telling the truth.

"Then it doesn't matter and either way you'll die," Perrington said exasperatedly.

Chaol watched Perrington with a calculating gaze. If Perrington had done that, then he might as well bring the Duke down while attempting to leave. If he was prohibited from escaping, then killing Perrington was the only way he could help Dorian.

"Fine," he sighed. Perrington wouldn't let him leave unless he was dead—Chaol understood that.

So that was that. Both boys began their duels to death, praying that it would turn out alright for the other's sake, so that the other could escape, ten and a half years after they had first met.

 **Chapter Release Date: September 8, 2018**


	53. Chapter 53: Duel

**A/N: Well, it's officially been a year since the end of my first fanfic—** _ **Vampires Don't Exist**_ **. And tomorrow, it'll have been a year since I published my first one-shot (** _ **Just One Dance**_ **). And on the 23rd, it'll have been a year since the start of** _ **this**_ **story. Can you believe that?**

 **Chapter Fifty-Three: Duel**

" _Yes. I will duel with you. To the death."_

The King of Adarlan stepped toward his son, slowly moving down the steps that led to the glass throne on which he usually sat.

"Excellent," he said. "I'm sorry it had to come to this, though. But I think you understand why it must."

Dorian held his head high. He didn't want to let on how nervous he really was to do this—his father would only use that against him. So he responded as calmly as he could in an attempt to come off as confident. "Yes. Because you're a monster, and I can't let you go on doing what you're doing." His voice wobbled slightly on the last part of the sentence, but he kept going. "But you must view me the same way, don't you? Just a wrench thrown in your horrible plan, an unexpected hitch that must be dealt with." He kept reminding himself that there would be no one coming to his rescue today. However this turned out—that was on him.

"Yes. Even if you hadn't come here today, I think I would have exiled you. Because if that didn't kill you, you would have to live with the fact that your brother would become king."

"I know," Dorian breathed out. He was absolutely terrified. In all the books that he'd read, the characters would know exactly what to do in that vital moment near the end of the story, that moment of angst, when the character was under pressure. They would make the right call, because deep down, they knew exactly what the right thing was. But he didn't.

He felt totally lost. Was he supposed to make a move against the king? And even if he did, how could he kill his own father? He knew that the man standing before him was serious when he said that he would kill Dorian if the prince lost, but he also knew that he couldn't return the sentiment. He just couldn't.

But that would be letting a murderer go unscathed—there was no way his father was getting justice anywhere but the afterlife—and that wasn't right, either.

"You know, one day I was planning on telling you everything. If you hadn't been…" the king trailed off, turning his nose up in disgust, waving his hand, as if that were enough to indicate exactly what he meant, as if it were too hard to say. "I would have told you how I did it. All of this."

"You mean conquer an entire continent? Defeat one of the greatest armies to have ever been assembled? Outlaw magic only to have it vanish mere weeks later?" Dorian whispered. "Tell me, Father. Tell me how you did it. I do want to know, before one of us dies." If he could just keep his father talking, maybe he could come up with a better plan than… dueling.

What had he been thinking, again? Why in all of Erilea had he agreed to this?

"I suppose it couldn't hurt to tell you before you meet your end."

That's right. His father was a jackass that wasn't going to be stopped any other way.

Regardless, Dorian almost laughed at his father's word choice. The way he put emphasis on the fact that it would be Dorian's demise the world saw that day, rather than leaving the options open the way that Dorian had. Why was the man so sure of himself?

"Do you know what the Wyrd Gates are?"

Dorian shook his head cautiously. Curiosity got the better of him as he listened intently to his father's words, forgetting his earlier frantic preparation for the duel.

"They are gateways to other realms, and long ago, three very powerful beings removed part of them so that they could open the gates at will. They created three keys, each holding an immense amount of power. Simply one key would render the wielder nearly invincible, but together, and only together, could they open the gates. I have in my possession these keys. Not all of them, of course, but perhaps some day. The ones that I do have I used to banish magic, and create other horrors that you would not believe." He smiled villainously. "It is with them that I managed to do all that I have. And I hope to do it on other continents as well. Actually, that is the whole reason for the murders."

Dorian's head was reeling. Wyrd Gates? Keys? "The list? Of names, I mean? Were those people all somehow involved?" Dorian asked. It was a leap, but he had a gut feeling that he was perhaps right.

His father laughed. "I should have known that you and that boy of yours would find that. But yes, in a way, they were. I wanted them to go to the other continents and gather information. Start weeding out some of the more powerful people and locating others, so that we could plan out attacks accordingly. And hence, the list. Some of those people that I trusted to do that work I think I trusted a little bit too much." The king was now striding past Dorian as he talked, lost in thought. "Some of them decided that they didn't want to be involved anymore. Unfortunately, I couldn't let them just go because they might let some information slip that they shouldn't, so I had to end them." He almost sounded… sorry?

"Then why did you have my name on it?" Dorian asked, spinning around to face his father who was now standing several feet behind him.

"For a few different reasons," his father responded. "I put it on there to begin with because I was going to tell you, but I know how you can be sometimes. But then I got the feeling that perhaps you might already know something—eventually, coincidences started to add up, and I couldn't ignore the fact that you might have a clue what was going on—which is why your name stayed on and why I didn't tell you. I'll admit, I was a bit paranoid, but as they say—better safe than sorry. If you were already rejecting the idea, I didn't want to thrust it in your face. As for Chaol—his name is on there because of how nosey he his."

"Why are you so willing to just lay down bodies because they don't do what you ask?" Dorian asked, suddenly coming back to the moment, thoughts of the duel resurfacing.

He'd always hoped that somehow, his father might have just a sliver of good left in him, but this man was willing to kill his own child, to kill all of these people, over something that _might_ have happened.

"Because," the king said, trailing a finger over Dorian's shoulder as he circled the younger man. "I have to keep this country together somehow, and rumors being spread by traitors won't do that." He stepped slowly over to his throne again and turned around. "But really, my boy. You should have learned by now that I will do whatever it takes. I do not bow to those below me. I take what is mine, and I will secure my legacy."

And with that he shot a blast of magic at Dorian. Dorian through up a sheild around himself, but it almost wasn't enough. He felt himself being pushed backwards, but he dug his feet into the ground, grinding his teeth in response to the intense heat.

"Now," the king drawled, "why don't we see what form your magic takes?"

 **Chapter Release Date: September 15, 2018**

 **A/N:** **Yes, two music references in two consecutive sentences. I'm sorry—I saw the opportunity, and I took it. ("Whatever It Takes," by Imagine Dragons was the first one. The second one was less obvious—the line about a "secure legacy" was a reference to "The Room Where It Happens" from the Hamilton Musical. There's a part in the beginning where Burr is talking to Hamilton about the general Mercer, who died and got a street named after him. Burr says, "The Mercer legacy is secure," and Hamilton responds with, "And all he had to do was die!" Burr says, "And that's a lot less work." Then Hamilton says, "We oughta give it a try." That was a needlessly long explanation; I'm sorry.)**


	54. Chapter 54: Fight or Flight

**A/N: Holy shit. We only have one chapter left after this. Can you believe that? I mean, really! How is this story almost over? Also, I wrote the first draft of this on January 6th, but it was crazy to think at the time that this wouldn't be released until 2018 was almost over. Make sure to be on the lookout for a story labeled as Show Me How to Fly #2/II! I think it'll be called "I'm Falling," but I'm not totally sure, so Show Me How to Fly II might be a better search option.**

 **Chapter Fifty-Four: Fight or Flight**

 _Shit,_ Chaol grimaced as Perrington's sword grazed his arm. He darted to the side and made a move at Perrington, who easily dodged in return.

They had been fighting for several minutes.

How many exactly? Chaol had no idea. All he knew was that he was ready to be done, but the duke was showing no signs of fatigue at all.

He was pretty sure that Perrington was just toying with him.

Chaol tried to get in a blow to Perrington's head, but Perrington stepped to the side and was suddenly behind Chaol much faster than he should have been able to move.

Chaol felt a boot make contact with the base of his spine and he tumbled forward, just barely missing the desk against the wall.

He slammed into the floor and rolled over, facing Perrington, who playfully wacked Chaol with the flat of his blade.

Chaol shot to his feet and lunged at Perrington. The man just chuckled lightly and slashed open the outside of Chaol's thigh.

Chaol lurched forward, screaming in pain.

"Admit it," Perrington smirked. "I'm better. I'm not even trying, and yet look which one of us is already covered in his own blood."

Chaol stared up at Perrington. The duke _was_ better, as much as he hated to admit it.

Perrington raised his sword, about to make his final blow, but as the sword began to come down, something passed through Chaol's mind.

It was the distant sound of laughter. It echoed slightly as time seemed to slow, and he wondered if it was real or if it was just his imagination.

Regardless, it was laughter that he hadn't heard in so long. The sweat, precious, real, honest laughter of Dorian's. Nowadays, the prince really only faked his laugh.

It made tears come to Chaol's eyes just thinking about whatever kind of misery his friend must live in all the time.

 _I won't let him feel so helpless ever again, how he must right now. I won't abandon him again. I have to make it out of here. He won't win without me, and he has to live._

The prince had to live for so many reasons.

Because Chaol couldn't live knowing that Dorian was gone. Because he had a country that still needed him. Because he had to live to know that there was something more, something better beyond these castle walls, and Chaol wanted to be there to see it with him.

He rolled out of the way right before Duke Perrington's sword hit the ground and sprang to his feet, feeling more energetic than he had in awhile.

He spun around and in one clean blow impaled Duke Perrington.

The duke let out a gasp, clearly surprised at Chaol's victory.

"I'm sorry," Chaol whispered. He'd never killed anyone before. And he really was sorry.

With no time for regret, he yanked his sword out and ran over to the ladder, hearing the thud of the duke's knees hitting the ground behind him. He prayed he would be able to leave now, that Perrington hadn't been lying.

He placed a hand on it, and when nothing happened, he grinned. He was going to go find Dorian and the two of them were going to leave this place—hopefully forever.

He hurtled up the ladder with a book in hand that he hoped would help.

* * *

Chaol was flipping through the pages of the book—entitled _Wyrd Marks and How to Use Them_ —and found a spell that seemed good. His eyes skimmed through it and he noticed a list of things needed to perform the spell, so he grabbed a piece of chalk from a blackboard in the corner of the library and then dashed out.

When he arrived at the throne room, he paused before the doorway. A bunch guards were hovering there, trying to hear what was going on.

"Chaol!" Jeydon said when he saw the captain. "Do you have any idea what's going on? Dorian went in there about 20 minutes, and since then we've been hearing explosions and curse words! We can't get in, no matter what we do. What does it mean?"

"It means he's not dead yet," Chaol said. Before he opened the door, he turned back to Jamie and Jeydon, lowering his voice to a deadly whisper. "I want you two to ready two horses down in the stables. Go right now, and don't tell anyone what you're doing or why. Just tell them that they can come talk to me if they have a problem with it. If I don't show up in 20 minutes, feel free to assume that I'm dead or in prison. If that happens, I need you two to make sure that you stop the murders and fly under the radar. The king is behind them and he's not just going to stop where he was before all of this. If he finds out that you know, he will not hesitate to end you, too."

Jamie and Jeydon glanced at each other.

"Chaol… what's going on?" Jeydon asked cautiously.

"I can't tell you that right now. I don't have the time and there are too many people listening."

"You will come out alive though, won't you?" Jeydon asked, seeming worried.

"Don't be such an optimist, Jeydon," Jamie snapped. "Just do as he tells you and don't ask any questions." Then she turned to Chaol and said, "Whatever's happening, I wish you the best of luck."

"I'll need it," Chaol responded.

"I— _we_ —trust you." Jamie said.

"Thank you for everything you've done for me. Both of you. And also, there is a _small_ chance that you might need to come with me."

Jeydon nodded, and the two darted away. Chaol didn't think that the king knew of Jeydon and Jamie's involvement in all of this, but he very well might.

"Everyone else—go. Now!"

Everyone started scrambling and he put a hand on the door. It was warm, but as his hand remained on it, it slowly began to cool.

He took a deep breath, knowing, somehow, that it would open for him, and stepped into the throne room.

It took all of his self control not to start screaming.

Dorian was laying on the ground, covered in blood and looking very much done with the whole fight. The king was standing above Dorian, smiling, appearing ready to finish Dorian off.

Dorian's head turned to the side as his father raised his hands, and the prince's eyes met Chaol's. They widened, and something seemed to happen in Dorian's mind, like he remembered he had a reason to live.

He rolled over and tried to get to his feet, but his father sent him hurtling back with a jolt of magic.

Chaol hoisted Dorian to his feet and slung the boy behind him, and flung the book on the ground in front of him and started writing. It was a spell to render any creature unable to move, but he had to be within a certain distance of the person.

He began etching out the symbols depicted on the floor, keeping his body in front of Dorian's the whole time. Dorian scrambled to try and get ahead of Chaol, but Chaol put a powerful arm before the young man, their eyes meeting. Chaol, for the first time in his life, allowed all of his overprotective, overbearing thoughts to show in his eyes, and Dorian seemed to understand.

Unfortunately, the king took that pause as an opportunity, and blasted Chaol out of the way, seeing what he was doing. Dorian grabbed the chalk and handed it back to Chaol.

"I'll keep him busy," he murmured, a fire burning in the prince's eyes. He seemed to have a fury there, a life, that had never existed before. "Finish quickly."

Then the prince stood, seemingly fearlessly, to face his father once more.

"Dorian!" Chaol called. "You have to stay behind me or it will stop you too!" He didn't want to put too much information in what he said, but he also needed to get Dorian out of the way.

Dorian hopped easily on the other side of Chaol and began hurtling ice daggers at his father, trying to keep the man in front of Chaol.

But he was losing.

Chaol knew that the King of Adarlan was far too powerful for Dorian to keep him fighting for too much longer, especially with how worn out Dorian seemed.

That didn't matter, though. He made the last mark, and then grabbed a knife from his holster.

"I need your blood," he whispered to Dorian.

Dorian gave a quick nod, one last magic blast, and then held out his arm for Chaol.

He reached up and grabbed Dorian's forearm, slitting the wrist and letting the blood drip from the knife onto the lettering.

The book had said the spell needed magical blood, and now it did.

"No!" the king shrieked, but it was too late. Frost crept along his body, freezing him in place.

"Let's go," Chaol whispered, grabbing Dorian's hand. "That won't last forever, and we need to be long gone before it quits working!"

Dorian didn't argue and just let Chaol drag him down the hallways.

 **Chapter Release Date: September 29, 2018**

 **A/N: I'm so sorry for not posting last week! I got sick and wasn't able to edit. So, I'll see you guys tomorrow for the release of the final chapter! Also, the 23rd was the one year anniversary of the first chapter of this story—isn't that amazing? Time flies, doesn't it? Check my profile page for updates on the sequel!**


	55. Chapter 55: Into the Setting Sun

**A/N: Chapter one doesn't feel like it was that long ago, and yet here we are, 55 chapters later, saying goodbye, a year having passed. I hope that y'all have enjoyed this story. I've certainly enjoyed writing it. I'll see you again sometime soon—either in the sequel to this or in some other story that I write.**

 **Chapter Fifty-Five: Into the Setting Sun**

When they made it to the stables, Queen Georgina was already standing there with Jeydon and Jamie.

"Ah, you made it," she smiled. "Are you both alright?"

The two nodded.

Jamie had had the foresight to bring along some bandages (Chaol had been bloody when he'd passed them in the hallway) and got to work dressing their injuries as best as she could with their limited supplies and time.

"Good," Georgina said. "I know you must go now, but don't stay away forever. The King of Adarlan won't be stopped by anyone else but you. You must return to end him."

"How do you know he's not dead?" Dorian asked with a frown.

"Because," she responded. "I know that you were the one dueling with him, and I know my son. But when you come back here—you have to have a permanent solution. You have to either end him or incapacitate him. I think you know that."

Dorian gave a second nod, feeling a weight in his heart. "I do. Stay safe," he told his mother, giving her a hug. "If you need to get out of here, I'm sure we can find a way."

She shook her head. "My people will need me. I may not be the reigning monarch, but I can try to keep him in line. Just remember to come home, and I'll be fine."

Dorian fought back tears. "I will, I promise, but this isn't home. Not any more. After he's gone… after he's gone, we can make into one again."

"Okay," Georgina whispered, taking a deep breath. "We must hurry now. You must be gone before he can find you."

"Do you think we should go with you?" Jeydon asked.

"No," Chaol responded. "I'll need some people on the inside to keep me up to date. But if things start to look down, come find me."

"How will we know where?" Jamie asked. She had finished with Chaol's injuries and had moved on to Dorian, who sat down stiffly on a barrel of hay so she could better access his wounds.

"I'll be where I always used to say I wanted to be." He was afraid he couldn't be any more specific than that. If any of the king's men were listening, he couldn't risk saying more.

He hugged Jeydon and Jamie.

"Take care," Jamie said. "I'll miss you."

"Tell them that I say you should be the next captain, and if you aren't than they're all damn idiots. And if they don't let you, make sure you're still in charge. You deserve it."

Jamie grinned. "Thanks."

Chaol looked at Jeydon. "Thank you for everything."

Jeydon nodded. "I wouldn't be here today if it weren't for you and Dorian. It's rather a long story that I don't have time to tell at the moment, but when I first got here, I was only seventeen, and I was broken. I was done with life, and it was looking out for Dorian and getting to be friends with you, Chaol, that saved me."

"I'm glad that we could help," Dorian murmured and hugged Jeydon. He was too tired to say much more. All he wanted was to sleep. "Tell Lisa that I'll miss her and that I really wanted to say goodbye to her. You know which one she is." He did want to say goodbye to her. But that would only waste valuable time and put her in more danger than she was already in just for being his friend.

Then he hugged his mother, who said, "I will always love you, Dorian." When Dorian pulled away, Georgina faced Chaol. "Keep him safe. Don't let him fall—mentally or physically. Give him the help that he needs even when he doesn't want it. I want my baby boy to return to me someday, and I'd prefer that he did so in one piece."

Chaol just nodded, and then hopped on his horse. She was a beautiful white mare with gray spots on her flank.

"Thank you," Dorian murmured as Jamie finished his bandages, and climbed onto his stallion, although he required a bit of help, being weakened from blood loss and use of magic. He was starting to bog down, his adrenalin levels returning to normal.

"Goodbye," Chaol said.

"Goodbye," Dorian echoed.

Jamie gave a somber nod and Jeydon patted Dorian gently on the leg.

"Take care, you two," Jeydon said. "I hope to see you again."

"As do I," Jamie agreed.

"You will," Chaol said. "I just hope that we live through it—we aren't coming back here until the situation requires us to, which probably means strife in the capital."

"Yes," responded Georgina. "I pray this does not end in war, but I could see that being the only way it _can_ end."

"Yes," Chaol responded. He glanced over his shoulder. "We need to run," he said. He could hear commotion in the palace behind them.

"Go," Jamie said. "No need in getting caught thanks to goodbyes."

"Alright. Dorian, you ready?"

"As I'll ever be," he murmured, his voice sounding tired and dragged.

"Stop as soon as you're out of the city," Jeydon advised. "Get food, then get going. Dorian needs to rest, though."

"I know," Chaol said.

Georgina handed him a satchel.

"What's this?"

"A small fund to get you through a month or two. Use it wisely."

Chaol nodded quickly.

The noise in the castle increased.

"Go, now, quickly!" Georgina said worriedly.

Chaol took a deep breath, and kicked his horse into motion. Dorian followed suit and the two began their ride.

Chaol glanced behind them, and saw no motion from the rest of the castle. That was good. That meant that no one was after them yet.

"Let's get out of here," Chaol sighed. "I am so done with all of this court nonsense."

Surprisingly, Dorian laughed. "Oh, Chaol. So am I. I am so done with _all_ of this."

Chaol started laughing too. "We've been saying that for what, 10 years? Eleven years?"

"Since we met," Dorian helped, a sparkle in his tired eyes.

"Yeah. And now we're finally, completely done!"

"Well, not quite," Dorian amended.

"Not quite," Chaol agreed. "We've still got to knock your father off of his glass pedestal."

"Let's think about that tomorrow though," Dorian said.

"Okay," Chaol responded. "I'm down for that."

Chaol kicked his horse into a canter, Dorian following just behind him. Chaol turned onto a less busy, smaller road out of the castle. Hopefully, that would keep them away from the king's men, and even if someone saw them, it would seem as if the prince wanted a quiet ride by himself. Not unusual, right?

Dorian sighed. "For the time being, we're free to govern ourselves."

"Wow. You're right," Chaol said with surprise. "I don't think that's ever happened before."

"Neither do I."

They rode in silence for a couple of minutes before Chaol broke it.

"Dorian?" he asked.

"Yeah?"

"When we get where we're going, I have something to tell you."

"Why can't you tell me now?" Dorian frowned.

"I just don't want to do it on the road. I don't know. It doesn't feel right. But what I will tell you now is that I'm sorry. For everything I said. I accept you one hundred percent, and I will always love you. You're my best friend, and I don't want to ever lose you."

"Me too," Dorian responded. "I love you too, Chaol." His voice sounded, if at all possible, more tired than ever, full of weight and responsibility and sadness, even though they were supposed to be leaving that all behind.

And that was that. The two young men road off into the rising sun to greet their temporary happily ever after, each hopelessly in love with the other.

They'd had quite an adventure already, but things were just going to get worse from there. Would they be able to hold out? Would they be able to carry each other to the end?

Those, my friends, are questions that can only be answered with time.

 **Chapter Release Date: September 29, 2018**

 **A/N: Goodbye for now, my faithful readers. I really appreciate those of you who have stuck with me for the whole story and I'm so grateful for all of your positive reviews that you've left—it all means so, so much to me. Thank you.**


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